Startropics: Follow The Southern Cross
by Erico
Summary: The time: June, 1990. The place: Coralcola Island. After defeating Zoda and saving the Argonian race, what is there left for Michael Jones to do?
1. Prologue: The Unlikeliest of Heroes

_**STARTROPICS: FOLLOW THE SOUTHERN CROSS**_

By Erico

PROLOGUE: THE UNLIKELIEST OF HEROES

_June 15__th__, 1990_

Vacation was a concept that never excited me much. My summer was typically spent on the baseball beam for the most part, and the rest was done at home. Routine and more routine, one might say…And then of course, something happens that shatters routine. Destiny? Fate? Nah, I'm a simple guy. Let's call it life.

To clarify, let me identify myself. My name is Mike. Michael Dennis Jones. I'm 15 years old(Technically, but I'll have you know my birthday isn't THAT far off!!), and Seattle Washington is where I hang my hat. Or home, for the rest of you. I'm betting you didn't know Seattle had baseball, considering how much it rains.

And like I said. Routine. All that changed the moment I received a message from my Uncle, Steve Jones on Coralcola Island. For those of you globally challenged, look in the South Seas. Or the Coral Sea specifically, you'll find Coralcola. Surrounded by such other places as Bellcola, Miracola, Tunacola, Howduyadocola…

Anyhow. I was invited to spend the remainder of my summer vacation participating in some of the best summer fun ever created. Which means, ON A TROPICAL ISLAND. Now for me, this was a Godsend. It got me out of the rain at least.

This is where Murphy's Law drops in. Where things go wrong because they can, remember? Well, THEY DID. Badly.

Coralcola's a real 'out in the middle of nowhere' sort of place. In fact, it's so remote I had to be helicoptered to it. And the trip was long. By the time I got there and rubbed the jet lag sleep out of my eyes, I was looking forward to some fun in the sun. Cracking coconuts, drinking fruit punch, kicking back and doing some fishing…Of course, things can never go as planned. Especially if it involves me.

Everybody on Coralcola was as friendly as all getup. Seemed like real nice people. About the only big difference is their reliance on a little quirkier religion…

See, around the islands of the Coral Sea, they lean more towards astrology…believing in the power of the stars to guide their lives. Especially the Southern Cross. I was vaguely familiar with it from school…Sailors used it to traverse the seas at night, kind of like people North of the Equator used the North Star. But the Southern Cross to the people down here was more than a way to get around. It was their primary religious symbol.

The Island Chief was a friendly enough(and rotund enough) fellow that went by the name of Hapo Omoy. His sister, Bana Omoy, was the Island Shaman. And the gist of matters went like this.

Before I'd arrived, my Uncle had been abducted. And by aliens, no less. At this point, I began to wonder what they were putting in the water. But even though it sounded crazy, the both of them were serious. DEAD serious. So it fell on me, it would seem, to track my Uncle down and save the day. And, intrigued, if not overly zealous, I agreed. So I got a 'special island yo-yo', and instructions to face the 'test of island courage' by traversing Coralcola's tunnels.

Fun. No, really. There's nothing I enjoy more than having to face hordes of leeching slugs and verminous rats and poisonous snakes. It's my whole day!! And if you couldn't tell I'm being sarcastic, please step on the giant red x. Why? Pull this lever and find out.

For the rest of you who don't have an anvil dropped on your heads, I think you're beginning to see my point. I'd been given a very powerful weapon(That's right, the yo-yo had kick) and had been told to go save my uncle. Hooray.

Three hours and one dead sea serpent later, I crawled my way out from the bowels of Coralcola's tunnels. I remember turning around and seeing Coralcola village a mile off, then screaming "WHY DIDN'T I JUST WALK?!"

But I'd done it, at least. By Bana Omoy's judgement, I'd passed the test of island courage.

My Uncle is a world renowned archaeologist and scholar. Supposedly, he and my dad look a lot alike. Of course, I didn't get the pleasure of seeing Uncle Steve in person. In the center of Coralcola Island, he put up his laboratory. I've been inside of it, and let me tell you it's an absolute mess. Chock full of historical artifacts from everything he's ever done or found. And eventually, I muddled my way through the mess.

I'd met up with my Uncle's lab assistant, an 18 year old local boy by the name of Baboo outside. He told me where to find Sub-C, but little else. Poor guy seemed scared out of his wits. And he was afraid of something he refused to tell me about.

"Sub-C?" I remember thinking to myself in disbelief. "Since WHEN did Uncle Steve score himself a submarine??" But he had. And at least it was pretty.

Well, all right, more than pretty. Drop dead gorgeous. Ladies, don't ask us men what our thing about machines is. All we know is that good ones make us drool, whether it's a Camaro, Mustang, B-52 Bomber, F-14 Tomcat, or my Uncle's Sub-C.

Probably some scientific grant or other. But Sub-C was pretty all right. Sleek, yellow, symmetric, and curves that would make a supermodel jealous. (Big talk from a 15 year old…READING. Reading helps.)

I met Sub-C's onboard navigational computer…a silly little robot that went by the name of Nav-Com. Now THERE'S an original name…and the goof even looked like one of those R.O.B. Units. You know, the stacker robot that came with the NES when it first came out? Aah, the NES…good times, good times…

Nav-Com offering assistance, I revved up the engines and soared out of there on the waves. Now it was time to take this quest into hyperdrive.

I was gonna find my Uncle…and then we were going to have a very long talk about all of this.

A lot of things happened in the two weeks that followed my departure from Coralcola. I saved a baby dolphin from an evil, ink spurting Octopus(with my yo-yo), survived a summer squall, fought hordes of the undead(with my yo-yo), woke up Miracola's Island Chief's daughter Bananette from a deep sleep using the Scroll of Obob, which I'd gotten by fighting my way through Miracola's mountain full of monsters(with my yo-yo)…

All right, this is just getting dicking refuculous. Let's just state for the record that I used my yo-yo a lot. And the Morning Star mace and chain that I got from the queen of Shecola. Imagine, a situation where cross-dressing paid off…And forget the rumors. The Queen of Shecola is as ugly as Monday morning.

I got swallowed by a whale. Met up with Baboo again, where he made a full confession about how the aliens had taken Uncle Steve. The good part about my Pinocchio experience was that I finally learned the code that responded to Uncle Steve's radio beacon, which he always kept with him.

I thought I was ready for anything then. Most people go their entire lives without a true adventure. And in two weeks, I'd had enough for three lifetimes.

Nav-Com tracked Uncle Steve's signal to a section of the tropics east and north of Howduyadocola…And it was there that Nav-Com and I came to the conclusion we had to dive. Underneath the waves, we found plenty.

It was an underground cavern…no, a LOT of underground caverns. There were enough archaeological wonders to last anyone. By all appearances, a civilization had existed in the caverns…an ancient one, probably forced under sea level by time and other circumstances. Even stranger than the ancient ruins was a large, solid, lumpy melted mass of metal. It had strange markings on the side…writing of some sort, and three holes on the left side of the writing. Something had been in those holes.

I'm almost 16, fine. Criticize me on that. I'm certainly no expert in archaelogy, but I knew then that the asteroid was unreal. Something about it seemed off.

But I kept going.

And eventually, I found my Uncle Steve.

* * *

I'd faced the undead, evil fire spirits, and even an Easter Island head with an attitude. But nothing helped me for what came next. The aliens had kidnapped my uncle because of his decrypting abilities. Uncle Steve had enough smarts and knowhow to stare at the symbols and figure out a part of what they meant.

Uncle Steve told me that he'd been forced to show the aliens how to remove three objects from the asteroid…where the three holes were. He told me those objects needed to be brought back.

Three cubes. My Uncle had been able to decipher the message that went with them. Apparently, there was a planet off in the reaches of space that was called Argonia. Or, at least, there HAD been a planet called Argonia. Its inhabitants, the Argonians had battled evil aliens. And they'd lost miserably, all but destroyed. They sent their last escape pod to Earth. That was what the melted mass of metal in the ruins had been. The escape pod. And the three magic cubes had been with it then. They were very important. The aliens had followed the pod to Earth to get the cubes. Uncle Steve had found the ruins. That's how he'd gotten mixed up in the whole mess.

And now it fell on me. It fell on me to get the cubes back from the aliens. But how could I do it?! Why not call in the Marines?? I didn't fight off alien invaders, I pitched for the baseball team!!

My Uncle Steve was beyond doubt, though. Maybe he saw my true abilities more accurately than I did. And so I went. The aliens weren't immortal, he told me. Just like everything else I'd faced…there was a way.

And so I went on. I left the ruins, left Sub-C. I was finally, truly, at the pinnacle of this quest. This crazy, incredible, unbelievable quest.

I made my way onto their spaceship, which was parked and unsecured as they were preparing for takeoff. Lax security…but who in their right minds would try to get aboard an alien spaceship? Most people would run! Most people.

Now, try making your way through a technological nightmare full of people who want to see you dead, and who have laser blasters on top of it all. But somehow I did. I came across a fantastic thing I labeled Vitamin X…it pepped me up and gave me enough vim to push on.

And then I got the first cube. Imagine it like this: Instant upgrade.

Remember I told you about my Morning Star mace? The one I got from Shecola?? Well, it became something more then. I can't explain how, I didn't know why…but it transformed itself. When I grabbed that red magic cube, my Morning Star glowed brightly, and then turned a brilliant silver. The chain got longer, it swung easier, faster…I took only a moment before I decided, considering my surroundings, this new weapon should be called the Super Nova. It was almost an overpowering whisper in my mind…One that couldn't be denied.

The second cube, a blue one, was found after I finished off a gigantic two legged metal freak. No matter what I threw at him, I couldn't damage him. But I could most definitely push him off the narrow walkway. That spelled the end of 'Ostroid' right then and there. And the second cube granted me newfound energy. Like the biggest sugar rush ever.

Maybe the aliens got smart then. Maybe they realized that the kid running around scot-free in their spaceship was more of a danger than originally thought. Whatever the reason, I felt a low rumble as the spaceship shuddered. By turning to a nearby access panel, I realized why. We were orbiting the Earth then, keeping in synch with the islands of the Southern Cross.

And then he showed up. Zoda.

I'll never forget his name, his features. They're forever burned into my memory, and no matter how badly I want to be free of that scarring recollection, I can't be rid of it.

He called himself the Prime Invader. Zoda. Even as he laughed at me with that dark scowl, there was something more to it. As if he was screaming straight into my mind. I know it'll sound silly to you, but I did what I thought would stop the pain. I jammed bananas in my ears. It worked.

Using my newfound strength and a laser blaster lying in the corner of Zoda's audience chamber, I overcame him and put an end to his shape-shifting madness. Or so I thought…

Moving on, I found the spaceship's power core and blew it apart. Why? To stop them. These aliens would do anything to get the cubes back. By blowing up the power core, I made sure their spaceship would never go anywhere.

But I also blew the power out. The emergency lighting was dim to nothing, and the corridors I ran through weren't helping matters.

And then we met again. In a second audience chamber, larger than the first. Only now, it was different. He was different. Zoda had changed.

He was now 'Nightmare Zoda'…

* * *

The Final Battle between Mike Jones and Zoda the invader was one that nobody would ever recall. Fighting in an oversized room high above the plummeting doom of the ship's lower decks, the weary and fatigued child of humanity faced a reborn spawn, slowly losing.

"Foolish human boy!!" Zoda rasped, his voice more reptilian and ominous than anything ever on Earth. "You thought you could defeat me?! ZODA?!" The lights flickered on and off, emergency power failing as the demands of the ship began to overtax the supply. "You will not escape this ship alive, MIKE!!" Zoda warbled, taking a massive leap across the chasm and drawing ever nearer to the battered almost-16-year old.

Mike stumbled backwards in shock as the new Zoda came close. He stopped only when one foot tottered precariously into the open air.

"You're NUTS!!" Mike screamed at Zoda, reasserting their surroundings and the warbling alien klaxon. "Your ship is doomed, it's gonna crash!!"

"My ship is going to explode and disintegrate, yes." Zoda cackled, snapping his grotesquely proportioned mouth shut. "Thanks to YOU. But that is not important now, is it? No, by the time that happens, I will have taken back the two Argonian stasis cubes from your lifeless body and will have made my exit in my escape pod and the final stasis cube." He said it so confidently, so darkly, that terror filled Mike's mind.

"NO!" Mike screamed, taking a leap across the endless chasm and finding a foothold on a less precarious walking ledge. Pulling his Super Nova close, he waited for the lights to flicker on again, for that indication of where the misshapen Zoda stood.

His heart seemed to pound in his chest with more intensity than anything in the alien ship. Its interior had been menacing and nightmarish before. Now with the main power reactor shattered to pieces by the fury of his Super Nova, Mike found that the lack of the spaceship's steady thrum and lighting did more to unnerve him than anything ever before.

"Your fear is delicious." Zoda's voice echoed about the chamber. "You may have stopped my ability to influence your mind, but your thoughts are still open. I know your fear and terror, Mike Jones. I grow stronger by them!!"

Zoda's incessant rambling provided a source, a focus in the darkness for Mike to attack. Keeping his Super Nova ready in one hand, he reached for the laser blaster on his belt that was fully charged.

"I said it before, and I'll say it again, Zoda…GET OUT OF MY MIND!!" Mike pulled the trigger of the futuristic gun, hearing the familiar whine as a searing blast of photons leapt from the barrel and slammed straight into the bulky frame of Zoda. It also provided enough ambient light Mike could properly aim his main weapon. Squinting his eyes against the sight of Nightmare Zoda being fried by his previous blast, Mike hurled the wicked ball and chain, feeling the sickening impact as the Maces' head slammed into soft and yielding flesh. In response, Zoda screamed an alien warble that made Mike recoil in horror.

The lights flickered on for the briefest moment, then shut off again, robbing the boy of what little night vision he had.

"You _KYRCHAI!!_" Zoda hissed, the expletive so alien it couldn't be translated. Mike lifted his laser blaster again, doing his best to keep his trembling hand from dropping the weapon. "You _inchaben KYRCHAI!!"_ Zoda rasped more forcefully.

"What, is the big bad Invader Zoda losing his cool?" Mike egged, another flash from his laser blaster slicing forth into Zoda's forehead. He quickly jumped to another section of ledge as a furious Zoda stumbled forward with a roar.

"I destroyed the Argonians, BOY!!" Zoda screamed in his unsettling voice. "I can do the same to you!!"

Perhaps it was the power of the cubes in his pocket. Or maybe Mike Jones just snapped. Whatever the cause, the two opponents found themselves staring each other down with hatred in their eyes, just as the lights finally flickered to full life.

Zoda spit out a slimy, woebegotten spawn from his face and Mike raised his laser blaster again. He fired only three more times, but three was enough. Two destroyed the spawn, and the third shot continued on and bored clean through the unholy right leg of Zoda. Screaming in pain, Zoda lowered his gaze down until he was staring straight into Mike's face.

Angry resolve shone clear through the fatigue, the grime, and the sweat on the battered boy's face.

"It…can't be…" Zoda wheezed, his leg starting to quiver as his balance unsettled itself. Mike was beyond words, beyond even screaming as he hurled his Super Nova one final time.

The ethereal mace flew straight and true, slamming into the side of Zoda's head and jarring him off the side of the platform. With a final defiant scream that rivaled the mythical banshee, Zoda toppled from his precarious perch and plummeted into the chasms below.

Zoda had been defeated, and as he fell to his doom, his screams continued to echo about, even drowning out the klaxons for a few brief moments.

Mike stood for a few seconds before the last of his adrenaline faded and he collapsed onto his knees. Gasping for air, Mike limply let his laser blaster clatter onto the platform. It bounced for a moment, then fell into the chasm as well. Only the two cubes in his pocket, his trusted island yo-yo in his other pocket, and the Super Nova remained in his grasp then.

_"I destroyed the Argonians, BOY!" _Zoda's message screamed, still fresh in Mike's mind. _"I can do the same to you!!"_

Somehow finding the strength to stand again, Mike Jones looked down into the abyss below.

"Not today, you alien scum." Mike rasped, turning about and walking for the exit. "Not today."

The lights began to flicker again, and Mike picked up the pace as the alien klaxon reasserted itself. But he couldn't escape yet…

There was still the final cube he had to find.

* * *

The cubes seemed to lose their power somewhat as Mike trudged onwards through the final maze of corridors. Their minute objective finally achieved, the magical objects seemed content to return to their normal, translucent state.

Ignoring the uncounted scrapes and scratches he'd suffered in the horror of the spaceship, Mike pushed himself onwards, his mind racing on uncounted thoughts, nightmares, anything to drown out the fatigue and pain in his body that threatened to cause his collapse.

"No time…no time…" Mike wheezed, his eyes staring into the unending darkness of Zoda's spaceship. The klaxons continued to wail, as if connected to a separate power source. He stumbled around, jarring into walls as he went. No further forces stood in his way, and Mike didn't blame them. The spaceship was falling apart from underneath them all, and whatever plans they might have had was sinking with the rest of their equipment.

"I can't give up…" Mike shuddered, pulling himself off of the wall. Only inky blackness met his stare.

He knew the third cube had to be near. Zoda had to have stored it close, within striking distance of the escape pod. But it was out of sight, the completion of his mission, and his only chance of escape perhaps inches, perhaps hundreds of feet away.

Uncle Steve…I can't do it…I'm sorry, but I can't do it…

If Mike had the energy to scream in desperation, he would have. But he barely had enough to stand…

_Here…_A voice seemed to echo suddenly. Mike lifted his head up in wonderment, feeling the two cubes safely tucked in his jeans pocket begin to resonate and glow a warmth into him. The two cubes he held also gave him a slight rejuvenating boost…one that made him alert of the surroundings once more.

_I'm here…_The voice echoed. _Please…Help me…_

Mike's dried mouth now burned as his pace quickened. A strange pale green light filtered through the corridors, and at last Mike could make out the direction he needed to travel. He ran. He ran for his life…And for the final cube that might have threatened ALL life.

And there it sat, beside Zoda's escape pod hatch. Drawing to it, Mike felt the other two cubes begin to thrum in excitement.

_Help me…_

Mike pushed aside the final vestiges of his despair as he reached down and clasped on to the final cube…and he found the energy to shout then, triumphantly,

"I'VE GOT IT!!"

* * *

I can't recall exactly that next space of time after I found the third cube. Somehow I got into the escape pod and ejected from the spaceship. No sooner had I than Zoda's prized spaceship exploded.

Aside from ejecting the pod, I wasn't able to figure out its workings. The end result was I had escaped the spaceship, but was plunging to the seas below at the whims of gravity. Frantically, I watched the altimeter…I was plunging rapidly.

I was beyond worn out, I was exhausted…

But moving to safe my life, I managed to punch the right switch…the ejection switch…just as the pod slammed into the seawater.

I was taken up to the surface by a bubble of air, but still my lungs were screaming by the time I broke into the bright light of the sun.

Disoriented and exhausted, I tried to start swimming in the direction of where I hoped C-Island was located. Of course, I didn't make it far. I couldn't swim.

I would have died out there on the open seas, all my exertions for naught…

Except I didn't. The Southern Cross, it seemed, was still watching out for me.

* * *

When Mike finally opened his eyes again, he was still met by the glaring tropical sun. But it seemed calmer, less grating. The gentle noise of seagulls and softly rolling surf met his ears, and for a few moments, he laid still, not caring about anything.

He just lay there, the sun coming down and baking him into a deeper calm. After everything he'd gone through in the ruins and the spaceship, just being able to lie still became the greatest panacea.

But something jarred him away from that tranquil moment. It was the loud and insistent chittering of a dolphin. Forcing himself up, Mike Jones saw a dolphin off the shore, bobbing its head at him and chirping for attention.

Mike scratched the back of his head for a moment, wondering what it was doing. Then, in a bolt of recognition, he realized why. He should have drowned. But he didn't…because that dolphin saved him. A dolphin…a mammalian sea creature that was sometimes called an angel.

Mike grinned and waved at the dolphin, realizing it could only be either the mother or the child he'd met up with at the island with the lighthouse. He recalled Nav-Com's translation of the mother's chitter.

_**We'll never forget you!!**_

At long last, the dolphins had been able to return the favor. Mike waved at the creature, not failing to notice how it chittered even louder before plunging back into the calm waters and racing off.

Mike turned about and started walking, a powerful thirst finally making its presence known. His feet made deep imprints into the golden, yielding sand as he kept on.

"Well, I'm alive…" He checked his pockets. All three cubes were still safely tucked away, as was his yo-yo, and his Super Nova mace was dangling from a peripheral loop of denim on his jeans. "And I still got all my stuff." Then came the most important of his announcements. "But where am I?" As he pushed his way up off the beach and reached bright green grass, he noticed a helicopter landing pad in one direction, a village in the other, and to the watery center, an unmistakable peninsula with a laboratory on it. Mike was grinning from ear to ear as he walked toward the village. He was back where he'd started…

"Coralcola Island…"

* * *

Somehow, everybody in the village knew what Mike had gone through. More importantly, as he approached, they began to cheer. He'd noticed Sub-C docked out by his Uncle Steve's laboratory as he came walking in. After being gone for so long, the archaeologist had probably been grilled with questions. At least this feat of heroism, which was by now, public knowledge, resulted in Mike getting a very satisfying drink of cool liquid. Milk or Cola, Mike wasn't sure.

After some hearty pats on the back and chortles of "Bet you showed them aliens a thing or two!!", Mike finally managed to trudge into the Island Chief's oversized hut. Hapo Omoy, Bana Omoy, Uncle Steve, and even Nav-Com were all waiting.

"Mike, you made it back!!" Dr. Jones exclaimed, his usually inscrutable face full of happiness. Mike shook his head back and forth, then pulled out his Super Nova and held it in the light.

"I wouldn't have, if I didn't have this thing." Dr. Jones stared at it for a moment, shaking his head and whistling finally.

"That must truly be a nasty weapon."

"It looks far more destructive than the island yo-yo I gave you." Hapo Omoy added.

"You men could stand to silence your quibbling every now and then." Bana Omoy, the female shaman added sternly. "Besides, I must speak to Mike further." Mike tucked the Super Nova back away, but not before Dr. Jones whispered that he wanted to examine the weapon later. Mike gave his Uncle a small salute, then turned expectantly to Bana. The old woman closed her eyes for a moment, then began to speak.

"Mike, I know it was hard for you. You almost gave up…" Her eyes snapped open finally, surprising them all. "But I'll tell all! You battled like a true hero under the Southern Cross!!"

Nav-Com chose to chime in at that moment, its mechanical, unnatural voice a stark contrast to the sage wisdom contained within Bana's tone.

"Nav-Com here, captain! Circuits indicate success! Circuits indicate success!!" Of course, Nav-Com's excitement was just as artificial as his voice, and an exhausted Mike found himself turning to the little robot in annoyance.

"Nav-Com, shut up." Mike tucked his hands back into his pockets, realizing that he still had the cubes as his fingers brushed up against them. Carefully, he pulled them out and held them in the palm of his hand.

"I did all that for these…??" He mumbled. Dr. Jones nearly jumped for joy in excitement as he laid eyes on the red, blue and green cubes.

"You DID succeed!" Dr. Jones exclaimed, his eyes glittering in wonderment. Mike looked at his Uncle.

"Yes. And you were right about them. They are powerful. The first cube morphed my Morning Star mace into the Super Nova, and the second one gave me an unbelievable energy boost."

"What did the third one do then?" Hapo Omoy asked. Mike shook his head.

"Not much. I got to it just as the spaceship was starting to blow itself up, so I didn't get to see its effects in action." Mike looked up, frowning. "Still…"

Bana looked over. "Still what?" Mike shook his head, putting the thought out of his mind.

_Still…the cube called to me…_

"Nothing." He finally admitted. "But I crossed paths with the alien leader, Zoda. He called these things 'Argonian stasis cubes."

"Stasis cubes…" Dr. Jones mused, rubbing his stubbled chin. "Interesting! That might well be a clue to what powers the cubes hold!"

"And these cubes…they're supposedly the only thing that survived the destruction of Argonia?" Mike asked gently. Dr. Jones nodded sadly.

"I'm afraid so." He pulled the cubes from Mike's hands and cleared his throat. "After you left, I went back and looked at the cipher again. I managed to understand a little more about what it said…and if Zoda wasn't lying, I have an inkling to what the cubes contain…something of great importance and power."

Hapo Omoy blinked a few times. "But what do we do now?" Dr. Jones smiled back at the Island Chief.

"Simple. We activate the cubes." He moved out farther into the middle of the hut, giving himself plenty of room. "I'll need some room for this. I also learned how these cubes worked." Nobody spoke then, all waiting for Doctor Jones to finish.

The archaeologist arranged the cubes in a specific pattern, then stepped back and nodded.

The cubes slowly began to respond, shifting their colors from one to the other at a snail's pace. But then they began to speed up, and an unnatural whine filled the air. Transfixed, the hut's occupants watched as the colors began to blend, causing the cubes to shine a deep white that slowly expanded, threatening to engulf them all.

And just as quickly as it had begun, it ended. In a thunderclap, the cubes vanished. And in their place stood seven children.

Seven very humanlike, but alien children…

* * *

To tell you the truth, by then I was expecting some sort of Doomsday weapon. I mean, HELL. The whole concept of three alien magic cubes…I was getting flashbacks to the Legend of Zelda. I could have seen that cube containing tablets, artifacts, an unbelievable power source…

Nope. It was kids. And that's what surprised me. That all along, Zoda had been after the cubes. When the cubes were little more than the packaging for the real deal. Them.

Their clothes were all maroon and dark blue, with a hint of a rustier blood red. And they truly did look as if the world had come crashing down on them. All of them were kids. Aside from two of them. A girl that looked my age in the front of the group, and an older boy behind her. The rest of them looked to be twelve and below…

If time even applied to them.

The oldest girl spoke up. And somehow, she knew how to speak English. Somehow…

All right, back up. A lot of things were happening in a very short time period, and THIS WASN'T HELPING ME. But I couldn't stop it. What, do you think I could ask them to just get back into the cubes and leave me alone? Not hardly.

The oldest girl's name was Mica. Mica Argos, the daughter of 'The Argonian leader Hirocon.' All right, fine…so her name was Princess Mica, the daughter of King Hirocon. Suuuuure.

Apparently, 20 years ago by our standard, Argonia was attacked by the evil alien forces under Zoda. And they'd been wiped out. Well, I knew that much from what my Uncle Steve had translated. So that didn't exactly provide any new bombshells in my life.

The seven of them were the only survivors of that tragedy…And that was only because Hirocon had stuffed them in the time frozen magic cubes and shipped 'em off. My question of course was, WHY SEND THEM TO EARTH?!

But that was a question that would have to wait.

One year ago, the escape capsule that they'd been on had crashed to Earth, in the middle of the buried ancient ruins my Uncle Steve had been exploring. And that certainly explained the massive hole I'd climbed out of to get to the alien spaceship.

One month ago, my Uncle Steve had finally come across the thing and begun to translate the cipher…and that's when he'd invited me to the island. Well, now it all fit together.

Mica went on then. Their planet was gone, she said. "But we'll not weep for the past!!" Even though her voice carried courage, there was a sadness in her eyes as she said it. And somehow I knew she wasn't over the pain of her loss yet. Maybe I was psychic. (As if. After everything that had happened to me, it was more likely I was PSYCHOTIC.)

Zoda and the alien invaders were gone. I'd seen to that. The Argonian children didn't have anything left to fear. They were alive, they were revived, and they were safe on the planet that Mica's father had sent them to.

So many things could have gone wrong. They could have crashed into the middle of somewhere more populated, like the United States. I could just imagine FBI agents crashing that party…Not a good thought.

This was Coralcola Island. Seven kids? No problem. The Islands could take them in. So Coralcola became their new home, under the sun and surf and Southern Cross.

And I finally got to go fishing.

* * *

And then that wraps up the summary of my first fantastic adventure. What began with a search for my uncle resulted in me becoming the savior of the final remnants of an alien civilization far away. I'd begun in the tropics, and my quest had taken to the stars. So in a way, if I were to categorize those two odd weeks, I'd have to call them the Trials of Startropics.

But that's only a part of the story, then. What happened during the rest of my summer vacation at Coralcola Island? There was still a lot of unsolved problems left to us then, even if the aliens were gone and the Argonians were safe.

Why had the Argonians been sent to Earth? And why had the escape pod crashed into the middle of a bunch of ancient ruins?

Just what exactly DID lead to the fall of Argonia? And if there was nothing in those Argonian stasis cubes but kids, how come I gained the Super Nova and an energy boost?

And just what would happen now…I didn't know.

For one thing, there was that celebration. All of Coralcola Island's inhabitants met in the village and partied like never before. Even the Argonians did some partying. There was plenty of food, plenty of drink, and plenty of revelry. And then things calmed down, the villagers went to bed, the Argonians went off with the villagers, who welcomed them with open arms and tried to fit in.

But somehow I couldn't sleep. There was one very important question that just wouldn't leave me alone.

I asked Bana that question later that night, after everyone else had dozed off and it was just me and her gazing into the tribal campfire.

"Bana…What's going to happen next?" I asked, looking through the flickering embers at her. She had looked at me with those wise eyes, then calmly shrugged.

"Only the stars know, Michael Jones." I turned away from the fire, said good night and walked off.

The beach by my Uncle's laboratory on the North interior side of the island was large enough you could walk a fair distance without bumping into someone else. But I met someone else then, somebody who also found themselves staring at the stars.

Mica Argos, the Princess of the annihilated planet Argonia stood on the shore, her ceremonial cape draped over her shoulders, gently waving in the night breeze in time with her shoulder length deep red hair.

She turned about, hearing my approach. I was startled for a moment, then realized, considering how much more elfin her ears were, it was natural she should have sharper hearing.

There was nothing casual about her dress that first night. Even her pants were of the same color and culture. But if her clothing suggested she was royalty, the look on her face and how she stood there certainly didn't give credence.

The Mica that I'd seen standing in front of her people earlier that day had stood proud, even a little uppity. She hadn't been impolite or anything like that then, she'd just…well, put on airs.

That wasn't the same Mica I met on the beach that first night. This Mica was saddened, defeated.

"Mica, what are you doing?" I asked. Quickly, she turned her face about to hide the tears. But I'd already seen them. The moonlight made them glow like gems cascading from her eyes.

"Just…Remembering." She finally said.

I went over and sat beside her, drawing my hands up over my knees. Then I looked out over the waves…let myself be lulled to sleep by them.

"It's over. Zoda's gone. The alien pirates are gone. And you're safe." I said softly, not bothering to look up at her for a few seconds. But I did eventually.

We locked gazes, because she'd already been looking down at me. And she shook her head, as if all the weight of the world rested on her shoulders.

"Do you honestly believe that?" She prodded gently. Somehow, the depth of that stare in her bright green eyes made me feel transparent. "It isn't over yet." The both of us blinked a few times, then nervously stared up at the sky. "Michael Jones, it is far from over."

A seagull cawed in the distance…Another shooting star streaked across the heavens in front of us.

And she was right, of course.

Saving the Argonians had only been the beginning.


	2. Morning Tide

_**STARTROPICS: FOLLOW THE SOUTHERN CROSS**_

By Erico

CHAPTER ONE: MORNING TIDE

"You always hope as you're crawling through the lair of your foe that this is it. That this will be the last time you have to go through with it. That this time, the wretch will die and not make the effort to come back. That's the wish of any altruistic hero. But why is it made, perchance? To ensure a lasting peace? Or does a part of you still hold fear in your heart? That one of these times, it won't be the demon who falls…but the Paladin?? The battle goes on. And eventually one side will lose. But will it be good…or evil? That is the question no hero yet has been able to answer. That is the question you now face."

-Renvil Farkin, Argonian Warrior Guru

* * *

_June 23__rd__, 1990 A.D. _

_6:45 A.M, Coralcola Island_

The morning came with surprising clarity for some. Then again, a tropical paradise usually did that to people. And here, on the most blessed of islands in the chain of the Southern Cross, the sun breached the horizon with a glowing radiance that slowly revealed its majesty.

Within the confines of the laboratory of Steve Jones at the center of Coralcola Island, a young boy gasped for air and snapped awake, beads of cold sweat drenching his brow. It was a gasp that made a feeble attempt at a scream, but failed to achieve its goal.

Slowly, the boy known as Michael Jones began to breathe deeply, cutting off his hyperventilation cycle in its tracks. It took him a while longer before his white knuckled and shaking hands released their grip on the edge of his blanket.

"Breathe, Mike." He consoled himself, opening and shutting his eyes several times over. Slowly, the room drew back into focus. Dull shapes gained outlines, the gentle thrum and subtle hiss of the central air conditioning calmed his rattled nerves. The savior of the Argonian race reached one of his hands up and ran it through his mottled hair. "Just breathe."

He sat there for a few moments, then reluctantly pulled himself up and out of the air mattress his Uncle Jones had laid on the floor for him.

"Only a dream, buddy." He convinced himself finally, sloughing off the last of the nightmarish images and turning the room's light on.

The room his Uncle Jones had set him up in was relatively small. Then again, Michael Jones needed few things. His Game Boy sitting on the nightstand was one of them. He reminded himself he really needed to get back to the Fourth World of Super Mario Land sometime…

Not today, though. There was no way he'd be getting to sleep after that nightmare that had awoken him. And Game Boy at this time of day just seemed ludicrous. Which left one option; head out and explore. He hadn't done that fully yet on this island. Never had gotten the time to.

_That's how it worked out, didn't it? _He thought to himself, shaking his head as he stared at himself in the mirror. Out of all the people in the world who could have gotten enlisted into the momentous task of tracking down Steve Jones, stopping the efforts of alien space pirates, and saving seven space children from certain extinction, he'd been chosen. Little old him. Michael Jones. He gave himself a once-over in the mirror, wearing only his baggy sleeping shorts. Nothing truly impressive. Sure, the trip had done wonders to tone up his musculature a bit, but he was hardly Michael Keaton. He wasn't the model of physical prowess and strength at its peak. A far cry from Conan the Barbarian, all right.

_And somehow, I saved a dying race._ He harrumphed. In a flash, he dropped a white T-Shirt over his head before he got tired of looking at his pathetic body any longer. The blue jeans went on next, and his trademark sneakers.

He looked around the room again, staring at the empty contents. Aside from his Island Yo-Yo and the Super Nova mace lying beside his mirror, nothing remained to document his travels. No potions, no cleated shoes…not even any horsehides. Broken Joe had seen to that. He doubted he'd need the Super Nova…even though right now, he had the strength to use it, he didn't have the will or motivation. One last shrug of his shoulders later, Michael Jones shut off his room light and walked out to the laboratory exit, the island yo-yo tucked in his back pocket.

_A brand new day, _he thought to himself calmly.

And still, he couldn't help but break that nagging feeling in the back of his head. Something wasn't right. And he couldn't figure out just what exactly the mystical forces present on this island were trying to tell him.

* * *

Somehow, Mike Jones wasn't surprised that somebody else on Coralcola wasn't able to sleep that well either. He walked north and to the east of his Uncle's laboratory, to the upper portion of Coralcola's maw, the side to the island's north that opened out to the sea.

In his travels throughout the islands of the Southern Cross, Mike had found that staring out towards the horizon had been his one consoling force. Answers that did not come from the islanders, from Nav-Com or anywhere else was found on the shorelines of the mysterious islands.

Mike remembered the first time he'd bothered to look out to the horizon.

It had been on Miracola. Undoubtedly the largest, and perhaps the most dangerous island he had come to. Of course, it begged mentioning that Miracola was where the tropical storm had spun him and Sub-C to. Sub-C had ended up marooned and half-sunk on the barrier reef far beyond swimming distance(As if Mike could ever swim to begin with…), and Mike had been spat out onto the shore.

Everything had seemed to fall apart then. Everything. It was two days into his journey then, and still he had found no definite signs of his Uncle's presence. His only means of transportation, and communication with the outside world was scrambled on coral beyond his reach, and to make matters worse, Mike was hungry, exhausted, and in low spirits.

As he had sat there on the beach that lonely morning, with the weight of the world on his shoulders, Mike had looked out to the horizon. Drawing his hands up around his knees and curling into a partial fetal position, he had stared at the rising sun, and to the fading stars and brilliant moon above.

_It was there that my answers came, _Mike thought to himself as he walked towards Coralcola's shoreline, snapping himself free of his flashback.

Indeed, his answers had been closer than he had thought. He had just never taken the time to listen carefully enough.

His answers were always there. They were the gentle lull of the waves, lapping up onto the sandy beaches of the tropics. They were the gentle twinkling of the stars, fading beyond sight as daylight turned the dark ichor skies to a gentle cerulean blue. They were the truths that screamed from this paradise on Earth.

And those truths were simple ones. As long as Mike believed, he could overcome any adversity. As long as Mike pressed forward, his quest would be resolved. As long as his heart burned with the fires that had been lit by the test of island courage, he would have all the strength, wisdom, and tenacity he would ever need.

And most importantly, Mike had learned from the simple lessons of that paradise on Miracola so many days before, was this; the powers of the human spirit were boundless. Endless. There was a reason that heroes rose from the ashes of bitter destruction and thwarted evil time and time again. The same reason that Mario and Luigi triumphed over Bowser and Wart, that Link had overcome Ganon in the depths of his labyrinth fortress. And that was as long as the fires of the soul burned bright, the hero could overcome anything. That was the sole defining factor. It wasn't adrenaline. It definitely wasn't any sort of food. It was the power that came from within.

Mica Argos blinked her eyes a few times, then frowned as she craned her ears behind her. Someone was coming. And from the weight of the footsteps, and more importantly, the time of day, that could mean only one person was up.

"Good morning, Michael Jones." She said politely. Behind her, Mike winced at the formality in her tone.

_Sheesh. If I didn't know her better, I'd swear ice water ran through those veins._

However, it wasn't ice water that coarsed through her. Strangely enough, it was blood. Blood as red as a human's, but still different in some small degree.

"Morning." He replied back, trying to sound a few octaves more cheerful. "Couldn't sleep?"

"I rarely do." She replied, trying to keep herself from yawning. Failing miserably, she passed it off as a sigh and shook her head. "I'm still trying to convince myself that all of this isn't some dream of its own."

"Now, there's a question." Mike chuckled, sitting down beside her. He took a look at her for a moment.

Her royal Argonian tunic and cloak was back in storage. She hadn't worn it since that first night, opting instead for the more conservative clothes given to her by the islanders. Currently, she was wearing her favorite of the ensemble given to her, a red dress with gold trim. It went down to her ankles, barely showing her supple feet and brown sandals underneath when she was standing. Her hair, a distinctive dark red that bordered on purple, looked more brownish in the dark of early morning. She didn't have it tied back, so it lay free behind her head, gently blown back and forth by the sea breeze. Her dark eyes, usually so cold and reserved, held a sadder, more exposed gleam to them now. She stared out at the endless sea, and the pink horizon to the east. Mike took note of it as well, then harrumphed.

"Red sky at morning…sailors take warning."

"Pardon?" Mica asked, turning her head about slightly and looking up to him. Mike smiled weakly and shook his head.

"It's an old saying that I've heard a lot around here. Old mariners used to believe that a red or pink sky at sunrise meant trouble was brewing."

"Do you think that statement is correct?" Mica asked, lifting an eyebrow. Mike shrugged and looked off to the distance again.

"I don't really put much stock into old hokey wives' tales."

Mica's gaze darkened, and she shook her head after a few seconds.

"Don't lie to me."

_Geez…nothing gets by this girl, does it??_

"Ok, fine." Mike mumbled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. "So maybe there's a little truth to it. I have been bothered recently."

"By what?"

"Nightmares." Mike said simply, fighting off the urge to shiver.

Concerned, Mica stood up and looked into his eyes.

"About what?"

Mike looked at her for a few moments, then pulled his gaze away and shook his head.

"Nothing important." He finally said. A lame excuse, he knew.

"You're still lying." Mica told him flatly.

"I know." Mike replied quietly.

But neither said another word after that. Together, they sat down on the beach's shoreline and stared at the sunrise to the east.

And for the moment, they let the calming waves and sky blur their problems away. For the moment.

* * *

Coralcola Island had but one village, and that massing of grass and thatch huts was over on the western side of the island. A good half hour's brisk walk, but Mike had gone from the highest eastern cliffs of Coralcola to the village in less time than it took a Super Mario Bros. Super Show cartoon to complete its run (With commercials, of course). As it stood, by the time that Mike and Mica broke free from the rising sun to the east and listened to the growling sensations of their stomachs, the sun had broken over the horizon with a tropical vengeance. The smells of the morning meal being prepared in the village were overwhelmingly delicious, causing the Seattle raised Mike to salivate in anticipation. Mica took it in stride, seemingly still walking in whatever dreamlike state had plagued her since she had been freed from the stasis cubes.

Some of the older boys and men were already out in the inner waters of Coralcola in their fishing boats, catching the day's meat. Mike blinked a few times, then realized that Sub-C was out there as well. He grinned as he saw his Uncle's assistant, the native Baboo reeling in what appeared to be a lunker.

"That's probably the most use Sub-C's seen since I got done with it." Mike commented.

"Pardon?" Mica spoke up, turning her elvish features to gaze at him for a moment. Mike shrugged.

"Out there…Baboo's kicking it around in Sub-C."

"Interesting."

"No." Mike corrected with an even wider smile. "Gnarly."

"Good morning, Michael Jones!!" Came the loud, but good natured voice of Hapo Omoy, the Island Chief. Mike and Mica slowed down as they neared the village's northern edge, only to find the leader of Coralcola already walking towards them and munching on what appeared to be a stalk of some vegetable.

Mica waved back at him as they drew nearer, then sized him up for a brief moment. "Are you all right, Hapo? Usually I don't see you without some meat roasting on a spit."

Hapo winced at Mica's comment, then scratched his curly brown hair, wiggling his mustache sadly. "You are correct, your highness. But recently…"

"What?" Mike prodded, eager for an answer. Hapo coughed a bit, then spoke in a quieter voice.

"My sister has me on a diet."

Both Mike and Mica lifted their eyebrows simultaneously at Hapo's statement, making the Island Chief feel inclined to provide more of an answer.

"She told me this morning that last night she had a horrible vision about my waistline. Until she is told different by the spirits, it seems I'm stuck eating rabbit food."

"Huh…" Mike harrumphed, scratching at his head. "Interesting."

"Depressing, you mean." Hapo sighed, tearing off another bite of his greenery. He nodded his head at the two of them, then walked down the way they'd come from. "You two enjoy breakfast, if you can…I'm off to supervise the morning fishing."

"Be well, Hapo Omoy." Mica called out after him as he walked off. Hapo made a loud grunt of some sort and raised his meager excuse for a breakfast in reply.

For a moment, as Mike looked at Mica, he thought he detected the smallest hint of a smile begin to creep over her face.

_No way. The Ice Queen has emotions??_

But then Mica noticed Mike's gaze watching her, and that twinkle in her eyes snuffed out like a candle flame. Her emotions once more contained within a face that sought to reveal nothing, she turned back around and gave him a brief nod.

"Come on then. The others have already started." She took off at a brisk pace, but Mike soon caught up again.

As they cleared the last of the foliage and walked into the village clearing, Mike sighed as he looked at Mica's blank stare.

_Why won't she open up?_

At the moment, it seemed as if he would never know.

* * *

But while the rest of Coralcola began to wake up and prepare for the day, one inhabitant had already pulled himself from the vestiges of sleep and had set himself into a flurry of research and critical thought.

Professor Steve Jones, the famous archaeologist whose laboratory lay on Coralcola, sipped down another mouthful of instant ramen noodles and readjusted his glasses.

"Damn bifocals." He muttered, setting them back on the bridge of his nose. This was the third time they'd decided to try and drop off of his head, and it was barely eight in the morning.

Reluctantly, he set the mushroom flavored ramen aside and stared down at his cluttered piles of research notes. The words were scattered all over, seeming like the work of a madman. However, to Steve Jones, a shining example of insanity caged in a half rational mind, the scribblings made perfect sense.

_Argonian race—Three magic cubes, in reality stasis cubes…_

_Monsters in the islands resurrected by what??_

_By the alien invaders??_

_Only seven children left…Some significance to that??_

_Ancient ruins must have some importance…too much of a fluke for the escape pod with the stasis cubes to crash directly in its center…_

Haphazard at best. Questions posed by a man possessed with the search for the truth, however upsetting it might be…

Doctor Jones smiled for a moment, leaning back in his reclining chair and shook his head.

_**I'm hardly the Dr. Jones that found the lost ark, am I??**_

It seemed like some ironic coincidence that the moviegoing Doctor 'Indiana' Jones and his own occupation were so similar, and yet so different. For one, Dr. Jones could never recall fighting Nazis. And his waistline was hardly fit for the exertions that Harrison Ford made look all too easy.

Plus, the last time he checked, Dr. Jones couldn't swing a whip worth his life.

Still, for all the differences, Dr. Jones could safely say that he appreciated his life a little more than Indiana's. For one, his 'foe' hadn't been the cause of World War II. Rather, he found himself pitted against the ruthless suited space pirates and their leader, a cloaked figure with burning red eyes and clawed hands that referred to himself as Zoda…A force that, in the end, had not been defeated by him, but by his fifteen…

No, almost sixteen year old nephew. Dr. Jones reached for his ramen and began to inhale more of the addictive noodles and broth.

_**Too much of this seems…predetermined.**_ He thought to himself, noting the foreboding pit in his stomach. _**Why just seven…why not a massive escape ship? And just where did Zoda and the alien invaders come from? If I'm to believe what little Mica has told me, Argonia was a peaceful planet that, despite its advanced state of technology, held onto a modified monarchical system with a firm hand…Just what would Zoda and the invaders have to gain from such an attack??**_

Dr. Jones slurped down the last of the noodles and dumped the bowl down in the trash, then picked up another loose sheet of scribblings.

_Super Nova…a weapon created by the power of the Argonian cubes. But the cubes are not magic…they were merely stasis cubes, so how does that explain…_

_Mike commented that he felt great power coming from the cubes as he attained them, making him stronger and giving him far more endurance than usual._

_But the cubes were not magic. The only thing contained within were those seven children…_

_Four girls, and three boys. Or more appropriately, three and three. And Princess Mica Argos._

_The ruins…blast it, there's something about them that still remains an enigma!!_

_Note: Wash laundry Thursday. Needs doing._

Dr. Jones lifted an eyebrow at the last comment. He wondered just where his mind was when he'd scrawled that in. Probably stuck between the demands of work and his life.

Sighing resignedly, he put the sheet down and reached for his Apple II computer, pulling up his diary program.

**June 23****rd****, Morning. 1990 C.E.(A.D.)**

_Work progresses slowly on my research into the mysteries of the survivors of Argonia. As always, there are many questions, but the answers elude me. I know that some of them might well be answered just by asking the children…perhaps a visit to the village is needed today. But still others lie dormant in the ruins I was exploring a month ago. Parts of the cipher found on the escape capsule remain unknown to me, but the answers lie so tantalizingly close…examining the structure of the sentence patterns in 'Argonian', I cannot help but note the similarity to many of Earth's native languages._

_One great question I have in particular is the powers that were held within the Argonian 'magic' cubes. In reality, they were but stasis cubes, meant to keep the seven Argonian children alive in suspended animation until such a time that they were called forth again. Still, they held great power. Was it the children that provided this source of power to the cubes, their 'life energy', for lack of a better term?? Or, as I begin to ponder, was it something more??_

_The Argonians are an advanced race. Doubtless that evolution gave them time to develop talents that (Pardon the expression) are completely alien to us. If their evolution granted them talents beyond measure, then it makes perfect sense as to why Zoda was so desperate to get his clawed hands on the stasis cubes and the power they held._

_From Michael (My Nephew, remember??), I now know that the red cube transformed his 'Morning Star' mace he was given in Shecola into a weapon he called the 'Super Nova'. The second cube, holding a blue tint, gave him stamina beyond stamina, enough to push into the very heart of the alien spaceship even as it took flight and defeat Zoda in horrendous combat that to this day, Mike still cannot bring himself to talk about. But Michael made no mention as to what the third cube granted him in powers. Rather, he mumbled upon his successful return the notion that the cube had 'spoken' to him…_

_The power of the Argonian stasis cubes, the strength that was infused into my nephew…the same power that Zoda undoubtedly wanted..._

_Just what is it?? _

_The answers are nearer than I probably believe them to be. Most of my discoveries have literally smashed over my head with all the grace of a bull in a china shop. I just need to wait and they will come._

_It is the waiting that proves difficult._

Dr. Jones activated the save command on his diary program and shut it down, taking a few moments before wheeling away from the desk.

He looked up at the wall, at the large map of the islands of the Southern Cross. It was hand-drawn, many years old. It had been a present from Hapo Omoy when he had come here to set up shop…

_**Boy, that was years ago.**_

Dr. Jones took a few more moments to examine the primitive, yet highly accurate map of the Southern Cross islands, noting once more how 'modern' techniques had nowhere near the level of accuracy as this map did.

And from what Hapo had told Dr. Jones, this map was nearly a Methuselah itself.

_**The people of these islands know so much. Modern day science's efforts pale to the body of knowledge just beyond our grasp.**_

Perhaps that was why he had decided to place his home and laboratory here on Coralcola Island, in the middle of nowhere. To preserve this culture, this part of human history before it was lost to ignorance and progress. Those ancient ruins out by Howduyadocola were such a rare find, and Dr. Jones knew that their rate of decay would have doomed them if he had not come across them.

And the more he thought about it, he realized he desperately wanted to get back out there, to continue to decode its mysteries.

_**Suffering from a little bit of the wanderlust again, eh Steve??**_ He chuckled to himself. He shook his head and got up, walking out of his office and down the stairs to his laboratory's basement level.

The basement connected to a door even farther down, which led into a natural cavern that the sea had worn away into the single outcropping of land in the middle of Coralcola's gaping maw. It was here that the submarine harbor for Sub-C had been built, in a place of nature's blessing.

Dr. Jones took in the smell of the sea as he opened the door and stepped down into the most unorthodox portion of his facilities. He took a moment to look out at the exit, a submerged hole that only divers or Sub-C itself could leave or come in through. In that respect, this cavern was protected from all of the elements, even while the rest of his laboratory might be blown away.

It gave one pause to think that for as far as man had come, nature still had the power to blow all his accomplishments into the wind, Dr. Jones thought.

The floodlights had clicked on as soon as he had opened the door, so aside from the drilled out portholes in the far wall providing the sun's rays from the east, the cavern found itself lit by the incandescence developed by man.

Steve walked over to the console that monitored Sub-C's status by UHF and ELF(Depending upon its depth) and picked up the walkie talkie connected to the 2-way radio.

"This is base to Sub-C. Base to Sub-C. You copy??"

Out on the open waves of Coralcola's inner waters, Baboo jumped up in surprise at the sudden crackling of the comm circuits. Below, Nav-Com chirped a statement.

"Master Baboo, we are receiving a transmission from home base. Shall I patch it through?"

"Yeah, I suppose." Baboo replied cheerfully, hopping down the open entry hatch and landing neatly beside Nav-Com. He patted the navigation robot on the shoulder appreciatively and reached for the squawk box, flipping it on to active.

_"…ase to Sub-C. You copy??"_ Baboo smiled and grabbed the transmitter, holding the button down as he brought it up to his mouth.

"That's a big 10-4, Doctor Jones."

_"HA!"_ Came the chuckling reply. _"You've been watching my Smokey and the Bandit videos again, haven't you?"_

"English is such an interesting language…" Baboo replied thoughtfully. "So full of…of…"

_"I think the word you're looking for is irregularities." _Dr. Jones replied cheerfully. _"And yes, yes it is. In any case, you out fishing this morning Baboo?"_

"I am. I caught a big one today." Baboo called back, bursting from the seams in pride as he stared at the twenty pounder lying in the aerated water belowdecks.

_"Well, that's terrific. I just thought I'd tell you that we're going to need Sub-C in approximately two or three days, so when you're done with it, get Sub-C and Nav-Com ready for a little bit of a long-term expedition."_

"Oh??" Baboo called back after the noise squelch ended, clicking his transmission switch down. "Just what do you have in mind this time around?"

_"I'm heading back out to the ruins." _Dr. Jones called back. _"And this time, I'm going to solve the mysteries of that cipher, come Hell or high water. I'll see you when you get back."_

The transceiver shut itself off, leaving Sub-C bobbing out in the middle of the water with a slightly puzzled Baboo standing beside Nav-Com.

The fish in the saltwater tank behind Baboo splashed angrily in its prison. Nav-Com chirped what had to be an inquisitive statement and tilted its robotic head up to Baboo for an answer.

Baboo shrugged and put his fishing rod aside, climbing into Sub-C's pilot seat and pressing a big red switch on the controls in front of him.

Above their heads, Sub-C's entry port hydraulically sealed itself shut, blanketing them in the dim and eerie lighting provided by the various gauges and monitors within the submarine.

_"Orders, Master Baboo??" _Nav-Com chirped.

"Just one." Baboo smirked, pulling down the lever that opened up the ballast tanks of Sub-C to the ocean waters. An eerie sound, like a mutated toilet flush filled his ears as the saltwater rushed in and caused Sub-C to begin to sink beneath the waves. "Prepare to dive."

* * *

Breakfast was of normal fare for the residents of Coralcola; roasted fish and a steamed form of a maize relative. Most of it was already gone by the time that Mica and Michael Jones finally made it to the island chief's hut.

Inside, under the watchful eye of Bana Omoy were the other six Argonian children, some chattering and others just stuffing their faces eagerly. One of them, a little girl of about seven earth years who Mike recognized as Rozlyn, looked up from her kebab of skewered fish and smiled as Mica drew nearer.

"Hii, Mica!!"

"Hello, Rozlyn." Mica said warmly, rubbing the little girl on the head, slightly mussing up her loose bangs. Rozlyn's hair was a lighter color, almost bordering a light brown in its complexion with only hints of red appearing at times. Mica looked over to the serving table and cleared her throat. "Is there any left?"

A boy slightly on the pudgy side that was thirteen looked up from his third helping and blushed sheepishly. Mica sighed. "Bakusian, you didn't eat it all again?"

"Not this time." He grunted, picking up another plate with six more skewers and handed it to her. "I made sure that you and Mike would have enough." Mica accepted the plate primly, with a slight hint of humor in her voice. "How thoughtful of you."

Mike snatched three of the fish skewers from the plate before Mica could object, then wandered to a relatively empty table. The Princess offered a brief snort of indignation before taking the remains of the plate and gracefully stepping to a table painfully distant from the youthful Earth native.

Mike chewed thoughtfully on the roasted fish, turning his head to the left a little bit and nodding to the young Argonian boy, Giskard, who sat beside him. Giskard looked like an earth child of twelve or thirteen, with a sour and sardonic outlook on life and a natural grimace to match. "How's the fish treating you today, Giskard?" Mike asked pleasantly.

Giskard grunted for a minute, picking out a bone from his teeth. "Mike, I don't understand how these people survive on such a limited diet. All these stupid bones…"

Mike chuckled a bit. "Giskard, you have to understand that this is how they live. It doesn't bother them any, does it?"

"I suppose not." Giskard mumbled. "Doesn't mean I have to enjoy it."

"Oh, you don't have to enjoy it. You just have to eat it so you don't go hungry." Another boy at the same table, closer to Mike's age by the name of Marlin spoke up with a loud guffaw. "But nobody would ever accuse you of liking any kind of food too much. You're not exactly Bakusian, are ya Gis?" Giskard turned a light shade of red before tearing into his food again, shutting up. Marlin chuckled and pushed back his wild and ruffled hair, winking at Mike. "See, you just gotta know how to handle these guys, Mike. They've all got their quirks."

"And you don't?" Came the melodic laugh of the only girl sitting at Mike's table, Amethyst, yet another one of the Argonian seven. She shook out her twin braided head of hair and gave them all an amused smile. How the fourteen or fifteen year old girl managed such a feat this early in the morning, Mike had never figured out. But her positive outlook on life was in such opposition with Giskard's that the two rarely got along. Aside from her dazzling personality, Amethyst's most definable characteristic was that the way her hair was braided made it look like she had a pair of meatballs on the top of her head. "Marlin, you have enough witticism in you for all of us. But there are some days when that's cost you dearly, and you know it."

Marlin baahed her with a wave of his hand, then looked eagerly at Mike. "So, how ya doing today, buddy? Got any big adventures planned?"

Mike lifted an eyebrow as he swallowed the last bite of his fish, then shook his head. "No, not especially. I might go fishing later…other than that, I'm just taking it easy."

Marlin snorted. "Now why would you go and do a foolhardy thing like that? Taking it easy, that's nonsense. You're a freaking hero, you should be out…"

"Be out…what?" Mike queried calmly.

"I dunno, marching in parades, giving speeches, seeing what else there is to do!" Marlin said in exasperation. "It's boring around here. Don't tell me that doesn't get to you!"

Mike gave him a very blank look before shaking his head. "I never asked to go on a crazy adventure, all right? And some days, I really wish I hadn't have had to. Right now, taking it easy, doing what I'm doing…I like this. I need this. I came to Coralcola for a vacation, and I mean to get myself one."

Marlin looked a little defused, and fell into a silent lapse. Amethyst spoke up for him.

"Come on. Don't tell me that you don't feel like you accomplished something incredibly worthwhile…" She tsked him. "Personally, I wouldn't have liked being cooped up in those stasis cubes any longer than I already was. Don't you feel that you got _anything_ worthwhile out of saving us from Zoda?"

Mike blinked a few times, then stared out of the corner of his eye at the far table from him. Mica sat beside Rozlyn and Bakusian, laughing gently at Rozlyn's innocent jokes and giggles. His face, tense from mention of Zoda and the trials he would just as soon forget, softened at the sight of Princess Mica Argos, heir to the destroyed planet Argonia, coming out of her shell again, albeit briefly. Something in her voice, how it danced along with the gleam in her sparkling eyes…

"Well…maybe one thing." Mike mumbled, slowly drifting his gaze around the rest of the breakfast camp before bringing it to settle back on Amethyst.

"So let me ask you, Mike…why is it that you and your Uncle seem so different from everybody else on Coralcola?" Marlin queried. Mike looked at him with a puzzled gaze before the jokester shrugged. "I've been meaning to ask for some time…just never did."

"Fair enough." Mike accepted. "Why do we seem different?? Well, for one…My Uncle and I aren't native to Coralcola, or even this region of Earth. Everyone else here has Polynesian heritage. Us? No, Uncle Steve and I come from a much bigger place called the United States. That's a long ways East of here, towards the rising sun. We're Americans."

Marlin blinked a few times, then shook his head. "So you're telling me…people on Earth…are different?"

Mike laughed, shaking his head. "Oh, Hell yeah. Earth's a big place, and there are more countries and ethnicities than I'd care to try and go over. My Uncle Steve would have an easier time of it, but suffice it to say, Marlin, that you haven't really seen that much of Earth."

It was at that moment that the final Argonian child came to breakfast, passing by Mike's table and offering only the most perfunctory of nods towards him and the others before making a direct beeline for Princess Mica's table. His previous aloof air vanished instantly as his face melted into a warm and dazzling smile, and he called out a greeting towards her. Mica stopped her conversation, then looked up and offered a small smile and a wave towards the young man, who was Mike's age, if not a little older.

"That Ezilian." Giskard grumbled. "I swear, he thinks he's so smooth some days. Like anyone can't see how much of his charming personality is simply an act."

Mike stopped himself from visibly nodding in agreement. Ezilian wasn't a bad person, by any measure…but he'd always seemed cold and distant to him, as if somehow, associating with Mike was beneath him, or something similar to that. Whatever conversations he and Ezilian had had were always short and clipped, if not downright brusque and hurried in nature. Outside of that, there was just something else about the young man that Mike found himself not liking.

Yes, out of all the Argonian children he had saved in his traumatic 'adventure', Michael D. Jones had to admit Ezilian was his least favorite. Even though he couldn't peg the exact reason why he felt so hostile to him some days.

"But Mike, let me ask you…" Amethyst continued, pulling his stare away from the suave Ezilian as he sat next to Mica. He looked into the younger girl's eyes, waiting for her to continue. "If Earth is such a big place…Is Coralcola an important region of it?"

Mike mulled over a reply in his head for a few seconds before the answer came to him. "No, Coralcola's not big at all. In fact, I'd never heard of it until I got my Uncle Steves' invitation to spend my summer here. There are much bigger and more important places on this planet than Coralcola…"

Something stopped him just then, a brief smattering of laughter that echoed through the breakfast tent and was echoed in every native, and even in young Rozlyn as well, who laughed for the joy of laughter itself. Mike felt a smile come to his face naturally, as he remembered where he was…a small and secluded community, far from the reach of the rest of the world, and from the dangers of it…where the people still cared about each other.

"…But I'd be damned to find a place that wasn't better for your spirit." Mike finished quietly, offering Amethyst one final smile before picking up a bowl of corn and beginning to eat again.

* * *

Later that day in the mid-afternoon, the Island Chief went looking for his sister. Of course, he had a fair guess as to her location…she was predictable in her routine, and it was every day at this time that she was in meditation with the spirits.

"Bana…Bana, are you in there?" Called out Hapo Omoy. He knocked on the door to her hut again, frowning a bit. "Bana, would you please answer me?"

Inside, the shaman slowly opened her eyes, staring blearily through the smoke of her fire for a few moments before coughing and standing up, shaking off the intense effects of burned incense. "Come in, brother." She finally said, her voice a little scratchy.

Hapo pushed aside the reed doorway and walked in, looking at his sister for a moment as the old woman, older than he was by many years, took off her headdress.

"What is it that you want?" She asked him, putting aside the niceties. The island chief shrugged for a moment before responding.

"I was looking for Michael, and I was wondering if you had seen him."

Her eyes seemed to cloud over for a moment. "Yes, I have. He has gone down into the tunnels of Coralcola for a while, and he has taken Marlin along with him." She turned and stared at her brother directly. "So why exactly do you need to see him?"

"I come on behalf of Dr. Jones. He has been looking for Mike since this morning."

"Oh, is he now?" The shaman mused thoughtfully. "And just what is the good doctor up to that requires his nephew? Surely, he's not in need of another rescue."

"No, but he wanted to analyze the Super Nova again, and it seems that it has gone missing from Mike's room."

"Such a curious man." Bana exhaled, shaking her head. "His life is not complete without a mystery in it to be resolved."

"He mentioned something about another expedition out to the ruins near Howduyadocola not too far from now, as well." Hapo mused. "Perhaps he wishes Mike to accompany him?"

"Perhaps." Bana said guardedly. "Mike has proven capable of defending himself quite admirably, usually against outlandish odds. Whether or not this is a good thing has yet to be decided."

Hapo said nothing for a moment, choosing to examine his sister's wearied features for a moment. "Is something the matter?"

"Somewhat, but I'm not quite sure of what it means." Bana replied slowly. "The spirits…they have become restless again."

The island chief furrowed his brow. "I thought that they had calmed down after…"

"Yes, they had." Bana agreed. "Which is why it doesn't make any sense." She took one last furtive glance at her headdress before nodding her head towards the hole and ladder in the corner of her hut that led to Coralcola's underground passageways. "If you wish to catch up to young Mike and Marlin, you may go ahead."

"Is it safe?"

"Surely you're not afraid of a few bats." Bana said, smiling gently.

* * *

Marlin squinted through the low light of the island tunnels, peering around Mike's broad shoulders. "So back when you got started on your trip, you had to come through here first?"

"That would be correct." Mike agreed, his eyes skating left and right for any sign of movement. "These tunnels lead from the entrance at the village to an exit that pops out on the other side of the forest on the surface."

"You know, something doesn't add up here." Marlin murmured, his ears twitching. "There's something scurrying to your right, by the way."

Mike's eyes flared open for a moment, and he caught a bit of movement in his peripheral vision. With an easy swing, he hurled the Super Nova at the offending creature, which squeaked in pain before running off. "Damn rats. But you were saying?"

"Well, if these tunnels are little more than a glorified shortcut, why did they make you go through them instead of just walking to your Uncle's laboratory?"

Mike smiled a bit. "I asked myself that same question when I popped out of the other end, grimy from my fight with the Coralcola Serpent. It took me a while to realize that this was a test, just like Bana Omoy said it was."

"A test of what?"

"She called it my 'Island Courage'." Mike grunted, forging on ahead through the mossy grass of the catacombs. "But what it really was…was an experiment to see if I could survive my first taste of trouble."

"What exactly runs around down here?"

"Rats and bats, mostly." Mike replied, peering around a corner. "For a while, there were some snakes, but I took care of them. And this was back when all I had was that yo-yo, mind you."

"Oh, I'm sure there's a joke about the danger of toys in there somewhere." Marlin jested. "But seriously…you said you could help me with my throwing skills."

"I meant it, too. But we have to get there first." Mike replied nonchalantly. "These tunnels are relatively straightforward…nothing like the ruins I had to crawl through to get to my Uncle. But consider this a challenge for yourself as well."

Mike came closer to the end of the cavern, holding his torch aloft. "Like right here." He let Marlin catch up to him, then waved the light in front of him, to a series of ledges and the murky waters around them. "Like a lot of other places around here, the doorway was set up only to open after pushing the hidden switch. But for instance, here…" Mike stopped himself, bounding ahead, carefully jumping from one land patch to the next until he arrived at one where the grass had seemed to grow over something. With a sweep of his shoe, he brushed the foliage aside to reveal a hidden switch that blended in with the greenery, then stomped flat on it. Behind him, a sudden rush of air accompanied the appearance of a bright, but slightly rusted metal switch only two hops from Marlin. "…You have to press another one before the real switch will reveal itself." Mike turned around and nodded his head to the young Argonian boy. "Now go ahead and try to jump to that one. Once you press it, we can move on to the next section. That's where we can find something suitable for our exercise."

Marlin stared at the leap for a few long moments, then looked over at Mike. "You sure about this?"

"Heck, I did it." Mike chuckled.

"Yeah, but you also saved all of us." Marlin said with a dapper smile. "I'm sure there's a hero's luck factor that came into play during all of this."

Without a second thought, Marlin jumped for the switch and squashed it flat easily, but stumbled in his recovery. Mike's eyes went wide in horror, and he reached out for the young boy. "MARLIN!!"

A loud splash accompanied Marlin's sudden drop into the cloudy waters of Coralcola's tunnels. Mike stood stunned, holding the torch towards the water, watching the ripples continuing to expand.

A few moments later Marlin came to the surface, taking a deep breath of air before letting out a guffaw. "I'm so clumsy some days."

"You're lucky you're not dead." Mike answered, shaking his head in disbelief. Marlin frowned for a moment, out of character for him.

"Now why would you say that? I can swim."

Mike's stupefied look melted away in an instant. "Oh…well, that would certainly help matters."

Marlin swam to the now open doorway and climbed out of the water, shaking himself off for a moment. "Yeesh, it certainly is cold though. Now why would you think that slipping and falling into the water would be dangerous?"

Mike's cold silence said a lot as he hopped from square to square, at last entering into the next room where Marlin's common sense finally kicked in.

"Oi. You can't swim?"

"It's not something that seems right, does it?" Mike confirmed, smiling wanly. "No, I can't. Totally bogus, if you ask me, but I've always been a lead weight in the pool. There's only been one time in my life I've ever managed to flop around with any success, and that really doesn't count much."

"Why? When was that?"

"When I barely made it out of Zoda's escape pod alive and tried not to drown." Mike explained, walking Marlin over to an outcropping of rock and moss in the square room. "In the end, I failed miserably. If it hadn't been for mommy dolphin, I would have been wiped out."

"Sheesh." Marlin chuffed, scratching at the back of his head. "And all this time I had you pegged as the kind of guy who could do anything."

"And usually, I can." Mike replied. "But we all have our Achilles Heel."

"An Achilles what?" Marlin asked, puzzled. Mike did a double take before realizing his faux pas.

"Sorry…we all have our major weakness."

"Aah. Now why didn't you say that instead of some messed up colloquialism I'd have no chance of understanding?"

Mike stared at Marlin for a long pause, until the Argonian youth chuckled and scratched the back of his head. "Sorry."

"Showoff." Mike grumbled. "But we're here anyways." He pointed to a pile of rocks sitting on the outcropping. "We'll use these…prime pitching stones I found around the island."

"And what's our target supposed to be?" Marlin queried. Mike smiled and handed Marlin the torch, then walked several meters away to another rock outcropping, where he reached down and picked up several empty tin cans. The Seattle native set them up in a straight row, then turned and walked back to Marlin, taking the torch back.

"I said I'd help you with your throwing accuracy, and I meant it." Mike explained. "Now go ahead and lob one at those empty cans for me. It'll help if I can see your form."

"It's kind of neat how you have this place set up." Marlin complimented his companion, reaching for a more rounded stone and lofting it in his hand a few times before taking a wild pitch, erratic and hastily aimed. "Just how long have you had this pitching range set up?" His rock soared over the targets and hit the wall behind them.

"I like to keep my pitcher's arm." Mike explained. "So I set this up last week. It's easier now that most of the dangerous critters are gone, so that's why I took you here…otherwise, I'd have to improvise another range somewhere else. By the way Marlin, you can take your time aiming your throws. Right now, you're looking for accuracy, not speed."

"Aha." Marlin murmured, picking up another rock and slowing his throw down in his overhand. This time, the rock hit the ground long before the target.

"Mmmhm." Mike frowned. "Yeah, I'm seeing the problem." Mike walked over and put the torch on a wall bracket left in the open, then walked back to Marlin and took a throwing stance. "See, you're using an overhand throw. The real danger here is that you stand the chance of throwing it into the ground instead of straight, which is sort of what you're doing. Now watch me carefully…" Mike began a half windup, then went into his throw in slow motion. "Now watch my hand. My body may be going through with the motion, but my arm is more or less remaining extended, and I'm careful of the direction that my wrist is headed."

Mike's own throw seemed almost perfect to the Argonian accompanying him, and he absorbed every moment of it. Finally, Mike turned to him and nodded. "Now you try."

Marlin grabbed another rock, taking his time in the windup and mimicking Mike as best he could. The stone he threw soared through the air, hitting the top edge of the leftmost can and sending it clattering to Earth. Mike grinned. "Attaboy."

"Not really." Marlin chuckled, lofting another stone in his hand. "I was aiming for the middle can."

"Bummer." Mike winced. "Oh well, you'll get better with practice."

"How long have you been pitching in this game called 'baseball' again?"

"Eight years."

"…Yeah. This is gonna take a while, isn't it?"

"It all depends, Marlin." Mike said optimistically, clasping a hand on his friend's shoulder and smiling at him. "It all depends."

Behind them came a loud splash and a grunt of displeasure. Mike and Marlin exchanged surprised glances before running back the way they had come with the torch, and Mike remained vigilant, keeping one hand on the Super Nova.

"What the…Oh, for crying out loud, Hapo, you didn't need a bath THAT bad." Marlin chuckled as the dark skinned island native broke the water's surface and kicked his way to the shore. Mike resisted the resurgence of fear in his gut and smiled at the slightly bumbling chieftain.

"Laugh all you want, you two." Hapo grumbled. "I didn't think I'd have to come this far just to find you, Michael."

"What can I say." Mike shrugged. "I'm a tough guy to keep a hold of. So what's new, chief?"

"Your Uncle wanted to see you." Hapo explained as he climbed out of the water, shaking himself off a bit. Marlin cringed at the native's quivering fat rolls, but wisely kept his jokes silent. "Aah, so that's where it is." He pointed to the silvery chained mace in Mike Jones' hand. "He wanted to do some more examinations on that."

"What, this?" Mike queried back, puzzled. He held his prized weapon aloft, then looked at Hapo again. "Why?"

"Your Uncle is a man obsessed with discovery, you should know that." Hapo said, smiling with a twinkle in his eye. "Honestly though, ask him. He's in his laboratory, as far as I know. But why were you two down here anyway?"

Mike jerked a thumb at Marlin. "This fella here wanted to work on his throw some."

"I see." The island chief grunted. "Even so, these caverns are not suitable for youths out for leisure."

Marlin frowned. "Now why is that?"

"These Caverns were used many years ago for the Tests of Island Courage…Mike here was the last person to take that test. Many dangerous creatures roam around."

"Naaw, not anymore. That's bogus." Mike replied easily. "I took out the C-Serpent and everything else here, really. Besides, things have quieted down since…well, you know."

Hapo chose to remain silent on that, instead turning around and walking back the way he'd come. "Come on, you two. Places to go yet today."

Marlin groaned. Mike rolled his eyes. They still followed the Chief out, though.

"I'm sorry we had to cut our practice short, Marlin." Mike apologized, as they neared the exit. Marlin shrugged in reply.

"You've given me a headstart, at least. I think I can work on it myself from here." He seemed to think for a minute, then snapped his fingers. "Oh! Before I forget, me and the others are planning a little party tonight at the campfire."

"Oh? What did you have in mind?"

"Well, everyone's always so curious about us…so we figured we'd share some of our favorite traditional music and stories with you." Marlin said, an easygoing lilt in his voice.

Despite the sudden bright light of the tropical sun hitting them as they came closer to the cavern's exit, Mike smiled.

That didn't sound half bad.

* * *

Dr. Jones had his nose buried in sourcebooks, and didn't pay much attention when there was a knock on his door. Not even looking up from the text of ancient scripted languages, he grunted and pushed his glasses farther up his nose. "Come in."

Mike calmly opened the door to his Uncle's research library, looking around with relative wonderment. "I don't recall ever paying much attention to this place before."

Dr. Jones finally looked up from his work and smiled at his nephew. "Aah, Mike. Hapo found you, I see."

"Yup." Mike said easily, pulling the Super Nova from the lanyard loop of his blue jeans. "I hear you want to take a closer look at this thing."

"That I certainly do." His Uncle said softly, taking the powerful weapon from Mikes' hands and lofting it from side to side before resting it down on a white plastic table. "Unfortunately, I'm still waiting for a replacement fuse for my electron microscope."

"Your what?" Mike said, lifting an eyebrow. "Uncle Steve, I thought electron microscopes were expensive."

"Almost prohibitively, yes." Steve Jones said with a smile. "Luckily, I have some friends in the field, and the one we received on grant is used by scientists for a 800 kilometer radius. So I just consider myself lucky they set up shop here and not somewhere else. I plan to use it to examine this 'Super Nova' of yours at a near atomic level…"

"You figure it has secrets to hide?" Mike guessed. Dr. Jones pushed his glasses up farther along the bridge of his nose.

"Induvitably. Mike, ever since I found those ruins, the mysteries continue to add up. But I'm coming closer to understanding matters." He tapped on Mike's weapon. "This is another part of it."

"Have you asked the kids? They may be able to tell you something." Mike offered helpfully.

"I was planning on it eventually." Dr. Jones replied easily. "But what was more important, at least for the past fortnight in my mind, was getting them settled in." He leaned back in his seat. "Though even that is a process that may never fully occur."

Mike frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Mike, you saved them from a horrific fate, that's to be sure." Dr. Jones explained. "But even though you prevented them from falling into Zoda's hands, the fact still remains that their world is, if we are to believe what little we know, gone. The civilization they once knew, their very homes and families have been erased from existence. And now they're here, on a planet far, far from where their home once was, in a place so very foreign. No matter how kindly we treat them, no matter how welcome we try to make them feel, at some level they will always be outcasts."

Mike's eyes dimmed a bit. "I didn't think they were all so bummed out. Well, Mica maybe, but…" He stopped himself and shook his head. "Anyways. I gotta get going, Uncle Steve, so…"

"Wait." Dr. Jones said quietly, lifting a hand. "What is it that you were trying to say about Mica?"

Mike paused, tilting his head to the side. "It's just that…Geez, it's like she's two different people."

Dr. Jones frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Around everybody, around the other Argonians, even around you and the other islanders, she comes off in control and pleasant, if not content. But the times that I've found her, found her alone without anybody else around, she's always staring off into empty space…as if she were thinking about something. Like…She's sad."

"She most likely is." Dr. Jones nodded. "Mike, do you want my advice?"

"Advice about what?"

"About how to get her to warm up to you." Dr. Jones said. Mike jerked his head up and looked dumbfoundedly at his Uncle. Steve Jones merely smiled. "You're not one for people skills, I've noticed." Mike lowered his gaze and tapped his knee.

"So what am I doing wrong?"

"You're not doing enough." Dr. Jones explained. "She has her secret fears…we all do. If you want her to relax, you have to air out your own. Give her a reason to trust you. I think you'll find that whatever wall she's been trying to build up then, at that point, won't need to be there."

Mike thought over it for a moment, then harrumphed. "Some days, Uncle Steve, you surprise me."

"Not all archaeologists keep their heads buried in old musty books." Dr. Jones said with a smile. "We do have lives of our own. Now then, get going you scamp. I've still got some other sources to check on my latest hunch."

Mike nodded with a smile and wandered off, yet paused at the doorway and turned around. "Oh, and Uncle Steve?"

"Yes?" Dr. Jones said, not looking up from his text.

"You might think about coming into the village tonight…According to Marlin, he and the other Argonians are planning a little get-together. They're going to be talking about Argonia and some old myths from their culture. It could be fun."

Intrigued, Steve Jones looked up, an odd smile on his face. "It could also be an incredible source of information. I'll be there."

Mike grinned and flashed him a thumbs up, then darted out of the library.

Steve Jones went back to his book, shaking his head. "Yes, this will be interesting indeed…"

* * *

Late that night, as the flames of the bright Pacific sun dipped below the horizon and gave way to pink, then purple, then dark indigo blue starry skies, the campfire of Coralcola continued to blaze.

Around the burning embers sat the natives of Coralcola, at last beginning to wind down from the feast of fish that the sailors had caught during the day. Only Hapo, who looked mournfully at the last of the grilled fish before Bakusian grabbed the skewer, seemed not to be enjoying himself, but Mike reminded himself that that was due to the vigilant diet program of the Chief's sister.

The natives had even received entertainment. Bumbling Bakusian, along with the flippant Marlin, had performed a brilliant comedy routine that cut across their cultural boundaries and set the tone for the evening. Little Rozlyn had then dazzled all present with a childhood lullaby she remembered fondly from Argonia, finishing it with tears in her eyes as she, like the others, slowly remembered all that they had lost.

Giskard had remained silent throughout the show, but even his somber demeanor had been fractured a little at Rozlyn's song. What Mike noticed more about his reaction was the quiet contentment the boy obtained as Amethyst recounted for the natives the Argonian creation myth.

"…and so it was that we were made. The stars themselves had sent their children to Argonia and blessed them with life and new forms. Forever would we always look to the stars for guidance and solace; to the stars, our creators."

She finished with a low bow and a graceful curtsy, and everyone began to clap. Mike chanced a furtive glance in Mica's direction. She clapped as well, but still there was the look in her eyes of distraction, of a deeper internal thought.

"Children, this has been wonderful." Bana Omoy finally spoke, looking around the fire. "I thank you for sharing the gifts of your people with us. It has been a night that few will forget."

"Oh, there you go again, always being so dramatic." Marlin chuckled, prompting scattered giggles. "But you're welcome. As for us, I think it's time that we went to bed…"

But one of the Argonian youths stood up, the eldest, Ezilian, and shook his head. "Now just wait one moment…I don't think we're completely done. Why, we haven't heard from our fair Princess Mica all night!"

The other Argonian children paused before turning their attention on a surprised Mica, cheering her to stand and speak. Ezilian smiled a dazzling smile at her and folded her arms. "Now, now. Everyone knows you tell the best stories. So go ahead, Mica. Impress us."

"This is hardly the time or place to be showing off." Mica countered defensively.

Mike turned his head to look at her, but out of the corner of his eye, he could catch Uncle Steve, who gave him a sidewards glance before quietly shrugging.

"Oh, don't be so modest." Ezilian smiled. "I don't think you're getting out of this one, Mica. Please, a poem at least."

Mica shut her eyes for a moment, then shook her head and stood up.

"If you all are that desperate to hear something from Argonian culture from me…then I have but one example to give."

The campfire fell silent, and all eyes and ears focused on Mica, who stood alone as Ezilian sat back down.

"In my people's culture, we hold many things dear to our hearts. As Amethyst has said, our myths and legends are among those treasured artifacts. Perhaps…even the most important part of our heritage. The Argonians have always been dedicated to the stars above us, even from earliest recorded time. And yet the few legends we have passed down from generation to generation go back farther than that, always carefully preserved in their original form. In a very real sense…our myths and legends are not that, but accurate accounts of our ancient past. The story I am about to tell you all is one such story. In our traditions, our great circles, no tale is as important, as repeated, as sacred, as this one. It speaks of our people in their darkest hour…and how that great threat was overcome."

Mike, like all the others there, found himself entranced by the quiet sway and flow of Mica's voice, enchanted by the unrehearsed clarity with which she spoke. Even the fire seemed to dim down a few motes in reverence of the solemnity which befell them all. Mica shut her eyes for a few moments, drawing her hands together close in front of her chest for support. She took in a full and deep breath of air, then opened her eyes and began to speak.

"Long, long ago, when the stars still seemed new, and our ancestors were just beginning to rise from their infancy, life was hard, but satisfying. The people who would one day call themselves Argonians lived and farmed, played and laughed, and enjoyed life. There was a peace unlike any known today, and though quarrels arose, war and deliberately inflicted suffering were concepts unknown to them." Mica shook her head, her face growing more grave. "It did not last. On a day that became known as the Sun's Loss, the stars gave birth to a new force. Flying, flaming tears from the stars crashed into the ground we lived on and brought life from. The night seemed eternal, and the light of day vanished. From the tears of the night and the stars of night came horrible creatures unlike any seen before. Where they went, destruction went with them. Until the arrival of the Star Devils, Argonia did not know anguish and despair. They proved impervious to all the forces that were hastily mustered against them, rising against the fledgling militias and scattering them one by one. Villages were burned, our people scattered like sand in the wind's currents. The Star Devils were immune to all our limited weapons. Day eventually came, but now, it no longer mattered. Whether in day or night, to venture in open sight meant almost certain annihilation. The Star Devils walked the surface, controlled it. Our people now hid, spread like seeds, not knowing how many of their kind still lived, and who had died. Terror fell on us, and we cried to the stars we had always praised, asking how we had come to deserve such an end. And our ancestors did indeed believe it was the end."

Nobody breathed then as Mica paused, taking a moment to collect her thoughts. In the dim radiance of the night and the crackling embers of the fire, Mike could swear he felt as though he was going to that place, and that dark time. So inspiring was Mica's melodious voice as it recounted the tale that the other Argonian children began to gently sway back and forth.

"But in the far north, where the Star Devils did not go because of the cold, in the north, where the true light of the stars arrives untainted by our planet's protective breath, and shimmers and dances in true sacred radiance, in the north, which remained uncharted and unknown to the Argonians...A sole Argonian...an Argonian who would become the most famous of all...Prayed and waited for the answers, for some salvation. He was known as the Starseer."

She paused for effect, looking out on them all before continuing.

"The Star Devils had driven our people underground, huddling in the smallest of groups. We were afraid to emerge, afraid to fight them, to face them. Nothing we did could stand against their wrath, their power. Nothing we fought with could harm them. We had become a dying race. The stars above, the very things we had once held reverence for, had cast our doom upon us. We despaired and slowly waited for the end, not knowing if a slow death by entombment or a quick one at the Star Devils' arms was better. But one did not despair. Nobody remembers what his true name had been...but as our people would later whisper, he was the sole survivor of one of the northmost villages, a young man whose heart and resolve was tempered in the flames and wreckage of his friends and family and home. Alone, a hermit in the mountains, he prayed to the stars for guidance, for aid. He prayed for the knowledge and abilities to strike back at the Star Devils, to save his people. The stars had not abandoned our people...for after a time, they finally spoke to him. They gave him the insight to see the weaknesses of the Star Devils, the courage of a warrior to exploit them...and a weapon for a savior. Cast down from the heavens came a weapon that was as cold as the mountain, as bright in the moonlight as a mirror, and as dangerous as a star bridled back only by a length of chain."

At that, the spell momentarily broke over Mike, who suddenly felt a strange sense of familiarity with the weapon that Princess Mica described. He looked over to his Uncle Steve, who also shared a similar look of recognition. He looked straight at Mike and slowly nodded his head, and at last Mike felt a strange pounding in his heart.

Her description could have easily fit his Super Nova.

"The stars told him it was to be called Ellini. And as he would become known...his name was changed to the Starseer." She dropped her hands to her sides before going on.

"Ellini is Argonian for 'the one who shines'. And it was there that the Starseer and Ellini held their greatest strength. What made the Starseer unique was that he could see the Star Devils as they truly were…unfazed by their shields of fear, their monstrous forms, he looked into the reaches of their souls and found their weakness. Yet it was Ellini that gave him the strength to exploit their unifying flaw. Area by area, the Starseer wandered, destroying the Star Devils and driving terror into the monsters' hearts. And so it was, that after countless battles, a weary Starseer at last succeeded, and the Star Devils, now but a former shadow of their once terrifying selves, fled Argonia, banished by the Starseer. Slowly, the populace emerged from hiding. We were small in numbers then, for the Star Devils had enacted a heavy toll…but the Starseer had saved us, and we rejoiced in our new lives. It was not long after, as our people began to rebuild their lives and our world, that the Starseer vanished. All that he left behind was Ellini, and a parting message; "When darkness returns, and the Argonian people once again face their darkest hour, I shall return." It was years later that Ellini suddenly grew bright as the stars above, and then vanished back into the heavens. We mourned the passing of the Starseer, who spent his life alone, without company, without praise. When Ellini left, it was the sign of his death, for the two were linked. None but the Starseer could wield Ellini at its full strength." Mica paused once again, then nodded her head quietly.

"Our people began to grow as numerous as the stars once again. But no matter how many years passed, we remembered well the terror that the Star Devils had brought, and we remembered well the noble sacrifice made by the Starseer to save us. And so, to this day, we carry his story in our hearts. The story of the Sun's Loss…and the Starseer."

The spell over them all broke at last, and the islanders cheered and applauded. But Mike, who held back his own praise for a moment, noticed something peculiar.

None of the Argonian children were clapping either.

And all the boys were looking at him with peculiar scrutiny.

Mica took a slight bow, then offered a weak smile to them all. "And there's my donation for the night."

Bana cleared her throat and nodded in approval, then looked around. "I believe it's time we got these youngsters to bed. The night is already growing late."

Everyone else seemed to murmur in agreement before shuffling off. Mike picked himself up and walked over to the Argonian boys, blinking a few times at Marlin.

"What's wrong, Marlin?" Marlin seemed to fall into deep thought for a moment, then tried to speak. Ezilian put a hand on Marlin's shoulder, frowning.

"Never you mind, Mike. It is nothing that concerns you, I'm sure." The brash 17 year old looking Argonian spoke with such brusqueness that the young Earth teenager immediately felt a flare of hostility ignite within him towards Ezilian. "Come on, Marlin, our foster family will be worried if we don't arrive soon."

Marlin exhaled for a moment, and then nodded in quiet agreement. "I'll see you tomorrow, Mike." The youngster said, in a quiet and subdued voice. Mike offered a brief nod to Marlin before looking back at Ezilian. The elder adolescent merely stared back for a moment before turning to Princess Mica, his face instantly transforming into a smile.

"Princess Mica, that was a most excellent reading. May you have pleasant dreams this night."

"Just go to bed, Ezilian." Mica replied, shaking her head with a small smile. "You don't need to impress anybody here."

She turned and joined up with Bana Omoy, and the two went off towards the shaman's hut. Ezilian turned about and began to stroll towards his own hut with Marlin, and all the others similarly dispersed.

Mike stood by the central campfire as his Uncle came up next to him and sighed.

"Well, you were right, Mike. This was most definitely worth coming to the village for."

"You caught that thing about Ellini, too…" Mike mumbled. "About how…"

"About how your Super Nova resembles their mythical weapon?" Dr. Jones finished. "Yes, I did. I also caught that while Marlin seemed about ready to tell you their reason for looking at you strangely, young Ezilian seemed fit to stop him. It seems that there are some aspects that are known to them…which they don't care to share with us right now."

"Don't they trust us?" Mike asked, disheartened, shaking his head. Countless moments later, he could still feel the chill wind from Ezilian and Mica.

"It's only been two weeks." Steve Jones replied with quiet resignation. He settled a strong hand on his nephew's shoulder. "Give them time to grieve and settle."

Mike shook his head. "I'm beginning to get the feeling that it doesn't matter how long we give them. No matter what we do…they'll always see us as outsiders."

"Strangers in a strange land, Mike." His Uncle said calmly. "They only have themselves to keep the memories of their home alive. I told you this earlier."

"I know you did, Uncle Steve." Mike nodded. "But…"

Quietly, Mike separated from his Uncle and started the long walk back towards the laboratory.

The archaeologist adjusted his glasses, shutting himself away from guesses of what sort of torturous thoughts were arcing through his nephew's mind, and back into the safe and secure world of his explorations and mysteries. He only spent a few moments considering his own trials before he returned to Mike's, sighing in exasperation.

"Mike, a lot of things must be in doubt for you right now." He started his own slower pace towards his home and laboratory. "But just be true to yourself, and never lose sight of your heart's wishes." He said it quietly, knowing that Mike could not hear him, and he would never say it to him when he got back.

The natives on this island looked to the Southern Cross for guidance and solace.

It struck him as odd that this native custom would find a cousin in the Argonian's own beliefs. If such an advanced civilization could hold such a primitive source of comfort…

Then perhaps the shaman Bana Omoy wasn't so far off base when she told people to look to the stars.

* * *

_June 24__th__, 1990 A.D._

_3:42 A.M. Coralcola Island_

Mike had the same dream again. It was worse this time, though…he'd woken up feeling as though he was still torn apart. The nightmare fresh in his memory, the quiet of his room had not soothed him. So he had put on his clothes, freshened up for the day, and wandered to the sandy shores on the north end of Coralcola once again.

He was alone for what he estimated was close to half an hour. He sat with his feet in the sand and his body sitting on the last fringe of grass, feeling the cool dew moisten his jeans and the dry sand sift through his toes. His shoes and socks sat beside him, abandoned but not forgotten. The gentle lull and roar of the waves below, rippling against the almost white beach seemed majestic when added to the stars above. Mike decided then that this place, all of Coralcola in fact, had a pristine quality to it. In Seattle, it rained all the time. Other places, smog was so thick over cities that it blanketed the skies in a permanent haze. But here, where the fast paced world didn't exist, where the highest technological advancements were found only in his Uncle's laboratory, life moved slower. Life moved at its own pace, not the pace that civilization set for it.

"I see you're not the only person who still has trouble sleeping." Said a quiet and subdued voice. Mike jumped with a start, turning about and looking towards the sound of the voice in shock.

It was Mica who stood behind him in a less used blue dress, glancing at him for a brief moment in that inscrutable gaze she had before tilting her head up towards the horizon. "I didn't think that in a place like this, one could be bothered by nightmares."

Mike turned back to the sea, mimicking her own gaze without an order. "It doesn't seem possible…I mean, it's so peaceful here." He replied in implied agreement.

Perhaps it was the fact that he was more subdued, less cocky at nearly four in the morning. Perhaps with nobody else around, she no longer cared about maintaining an act.

Whatever the reason, she sat down next to him, pulling her knees up to her chest and watching the surf as well. Mike didn't say anything for a few moments, not quite sure what to say. His Uncle's voice still rang in his mind, though, alerted from its coma by her sudden arrival.

_Give her a reason to trust you…_

"You asked me yesterday morning what exactly my nightmares were about." Mike finally said. Mica blinked a few times, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye without moving her head. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

"We all have our secrets."

"I know that, it's just…" Mike began, struggling for more words as what little rehearsed speech he had finally ran out.

"Just what?"

"It's just…I wish you weren't so cold about yours." He finally admitted, not quite sure why he had said that, but realizing a moment later that it was exactly what he had wanted to say.

Mica's eyes fell a little. "You think me bitter?"

"I think you're afraid to open up to anybody." Mike said. "That's something I want to change."

Mica pursed her lips, but said nothing.

"Do you remember your first night here?"

"Vividly."

"Then you remember what happened after everyone else went to bed…and you and I couldn't." Mike concluded.

Mica nodded somberly. "You found me on this beach."

"I did." Mike agreed. "I find it kind of funny, though…" He began, smiling a bit. Mica turned her head to look at him.

"What?"

"We keep finding ourselves here." Mike finished, smiling back at her before looking back out to the waves. "Like there's something here…something we can't describe, but which we need."

Mica thought for a long pause before finally speaking again, quieter than before. "This beach…it reminds me of a beach I knew on Argonia." Mike's eyes widened, but he didn't interrupt, and she continued. As if something had broken inside of her, a memory finally came tumbling out of the vault in her mind. "I used to play on it as a young girl…collecting shells from the sea life that washed on shore. When I grew up, I used to walk along it to collect my thoughts. But it was always there, comforting me. Whenever I fell in doubt, whenever things didn't seem right, I would go back to it. I always felt safe there, and I always left feeling better than when I had come."

"And coming here…kind of gives you the same feeling?" Mike finally ventured.

Mica nodded, the tension draining from her face. "I don't know how to explain it…but this place has that same quality."

Mike harrumphed a benign affirmative, mulling over things in his mind. "Mica…can I ask you a question?"

She looked at him for a moment before shrugging. "I suppose…something tells me you have more than one, though."

"I just have the one for now." Mike answered. "I don't even know why I'm asking this, you probably won't have an answer…"

"Try me." She said curtly.

"All right." Mike said back, smirking a bit before resuming his blank look. "When I was on Zoda's spaceship, and I was collecting those cubes that you guys were in…They helped me."

Mica didn't move.

"The first one, which was red…the moment I touched it, it was like I could feel a power running through me, into my weapon. That's how I got the Super Nova, Mica. It transformed my Morning Star. And the second one…I'm still feeling the power boost I got from that one. But the third…"

Mica blinked.

"The third one, Mica…the green one…it didn't give me anything. By that point, all I had was desperation, and I didn't need anything. I don't know how those first two cubes were capable of giving me so much power, and frankly, I don't care. That's something my Uncle Steve likes to wonder about. My question….the third cube talked to me, Mica. It called to me. The other two hadn't done that."

"Is that so?" Mica mused.

"I couldn't leave it. I couldn't. It was almost crying for me. And because those cubes weren't 'magic cubes'…but stasis, or whatever Uncle Steve calls them, which held you…It had to be one of you that was calling to me. I don't know who it was, though…and I just want to know." Mike finished. He waited for several seconds, realizing as he looked at Mica that she was struggling to put a sentence together.

"We're not really sure how the stasis cubes work exactly." Mica explained. "My father…he put us in them as a last resort. Zoda had destroyed our defenses, he had overrun our cities…and he was headed straight for the palace. We were supposed to remain in perfect condition, frozen at the moment of our transformation. But at some level, we remained conscious."

Mike blinked at that. "You were alive?"

"No." Mica shook her head. "We weren't alive. We couldn't think all that clearly. To me…it was like being in a dream."

"But who was in the green cube?" Mike pushed, looking for an answer.

Mica shut her eyes for a moment. "Ezilian, Bakusian, Giskard, and Marlin were put into the red cube. I don't know how their stasis cube could give you your…Super Nova, as you call it." She shook her head. "I'm no fool either, Mike. I also could see how much your weapon looked like Ellini when I awoke, and I can't explain it. I doubt they could either."

Mike fell silent, choosing now to merely absorb everything she said.

"I don't know _how_ the stasis cubes could have such power. Maybe that's why Zoda pursued us all the way to Earth…he wanted to tap into them, leave us suspended forever."

"But your Father…"

"King Hirocon." She corrected him calmly.

"Hirocon, right…" Mike added, scratching his head. "Wasn't he just trying to save you? I mean, you're still alive, aren't you? Doesn't that count for anything?"

"I suppose." Mica said after a pause, shrugging her shoulders. "The fact still remains, though…we don't belong here."

"And you'd rather be dead?" Mike asked sarcastically, growing annoyed at her attitude. "What, would you have liked me to leave you all on Zoda's spaceship, let him get away? It would have saved me a whole lot of grief if you'd have been able to tell me that from the GETGO."

"Oh, come off of yourself." She snapped back, turning to face him. "You didn't know WHAT was in those cubes at the time. You couldn't possibly have known that you were rescuing outcasts, so don't play the savior card!"

"Fine, so I didn't know what was in those cubes!" Mike shouted. "But I still risked my life to stop him! And the fact still remains that when push came to shove, I was the one who destroyed Zoda, and **I** was the one that rescued you all. And that's DAMNED more than anyone else could have done for you!"

The two sat there, fuming at each other for a few more moments before they turned away from each other, trying to forget the sudden bitter feelings that rose up inside of them.

Mike shook his head, cursing himself. _Great way to communicate, bucko. Terrific._

But something in his rash words had been heartfelt. Something in them had struck home in Mica's heart. And that was enough to wash away her own frustration, and return clarity to her mind.

"Twenty years…"

Mike didn't turn around.

"Twenty of your years was how long we had been hurtling through space to escape Argonia, Michael Jones. Twenty years trapped within a stasis cube, unable to move, unable to talk to anyone else…twenty years of having only your thoughts and nightmares and smashed dreams to think about in a near empty slumber. The other children…they had each other in their cubes. They weren't alone. But somehow, the cubes only worked in units of three, and so I was put into one alone."

She shut her eyes, trying miserably to hide the sudden tears that came from her face.

"Twenty years I screamed and no one listened. Twenty years I cried and begged and pleaded to be released, twenty years I wondered if the others were still alive, if Argonia had survived. Twenty years of thought and consciousness, kept in a tortured state of near sleep…My body stayed the same, but my mind grew old. And after all that…can you really blame me for how I act?" She looked at him, no longer caring about her appearance. "I spent my life in solitude. It's not easy to warm up after being frozen for so long."

Mike felt a lump catch in his throat as she said that. He looked into her eyes, and saw the cold flint no longer there. Instead, there was just pain, pain she had tried to hide, but which had returned full force.

"No." He finally said. "No, I can't blame you." He shook his head for emphasis. "I didn't know, Mica. I honestly had no idea."

"Nobody else does either." She admitted, bringing a hand up to her face and pushing the tears aside. "I would have preferred to keep it that way too."

Mike shrugged, offering a small smile. "If it's any consolation…your secret's safe with me."

Mica finally restored her sense of calm, lowering her hand back down and shaking her head. "I hope so."

Mike nodded and turned back to face the sea once again. Mica slowly did as well. It was several moments before she spoke again, more tentatively.

"The third cube you mentioned…the green one…"

Mike tilted his head to the side, still looking towards the waves.

"I never did thank you for saving us." She started again, timidly. "But…without you, we'd all be lost. Me, especially."

"Eh?"

"I could sense Zoda not long before you saved us. It frightened me, it had to have frightened us all. But the others at least had each other. Me…"

She shook her head, reaching for the words. "Michael, the third cube…the one that cried for help, the one that spoke to you…"

He turned, somehow gaining a familiar feeling as he looked at her again. He'd never really thought about it before…but there was a part of her…

A part of her he knew.

"I was the sole occupant of the third stasis cube." She finally admitted, looking into his eyes. "It was me who cried for your help. It was all I could do…Reaching out in blind faith after so many years of faithlessness…To do even that much. I didn't think help would come, and you proved me wrong."

Mike slowly smiled at her, shaking his head. The two finally broke gazes again, more out of embarrassment than anything else.

"So…Thank you."

"You're more than welcome." He replied, his voice soothing and calm. "Somehow…I was guessing you were in the third cube. But I didn't know for sure."

Mica nodded, looking up at the stars. "I never thought I'd be opening up like this…especially to you."

"Stranger things have happened." He said consolingly, staring out over the waves. "But I'm glad you did. I almost was beginning to think you hated me."

"I don't hate you." Mica protested quietly.

"I know." Mike replied easily.

In reverent silence, the young boy and girl let themselves be absorbed into the comforting lull of the surf and the stars. Neither one broke the silence, for neither one wanted to.

And neither one needed to.


	3. Untraveled Worlds

_**STARTROPICS: FOLLOW THE SOUTHERN CROSS**_

By Erico

CHAPTER TWO: UNTRAVELED WORLDS

"_Argonian history has been, as a whole, peaceful. It has been this way since time immemorial, mostly due to the efforts of our savior, the Starseer. The peace that came with the exile of the dreaded Star Devils brought a golden age of civilization and the restoration of the monarchy. Freed of conflict and worry about defending themselves, the unified population of Argonia drew together and echoed their presence and spirit across the vastness of stars and space. Slowly, subtly, the Starseer's gifts seemed to manifest into our people through the monarchy. It was these selfsame abilities that granted us the longevity and wisdom to do what no other before had; seek out our siblings in the Universe."_

-Wellurn Teslin, Argonian Royal Historian

* * *

_**1970 A.C.E.(Earth Relative Time)**_

_**Planet Argonia, Capital City of Arruk-Sen**_

Screams. If there was one thing that she would remember as the last city burned in front of her eyes, it would be the screams. The invaders had come without warning; they had blasted by every defensive line in both space and on the planet's surface. First hit had been the outermost starstation, Turelin. The casualties reported had been sobering, including Queen Argos herself, who had been there on a goodwill mission. Every city but one had been burned to the ground by the enemy fleet, by the massive explosions and the concussions of lasers ripping through the buildings and populace alike.

And then the armies had come. They walked in full armor, not a single part of their bodies, if they even had one, exposed to sight. Laser pistols and automatic guns flashed in the daylight as they marched on, marred only by the corrosive smoke that rose from ash and burning bodies. The scent of flesh, far beyond charred, rose into the air as a pungent perfume, forever scarring the memories of those who were alive.

Mica had realized early, as had everyone else in the palace, that this was no invasion for land or power.

This was pure genocide.

Early reports…the final transmissions of doomed men and women had indicated that these barbarous invaders from afar did have a leader. That demon was named Zoda.

Another explosion rocked the outer energy shield surrounding the palace. Mica cringed as she ran through the palace, dashing past her father, King Hirocon.

"Seremichala!!" Came his immediate shout, using her full first name for emphasis. She turned, her terrified gaze meeting his. "Stars' mercy, Mica, get to the others! We've run out of time!" His rugged features, usually so placid, now looked haggard and inflamed, but most of all, worried.

She shook her head defiantly at the man who had given her life, brushing the tears out of her eyes. "Not yet, Father! I can't find Rozlyn!"

Her father cursed for a moment, then bit his tongue. After a few moments, another explosion of a laser pulse against the castle's defense shields rattled his thoughts. "Hurry then. Zoda and the invaders are nearly upon us as it is." She nodded her head to his quickly spoken words, but paused as he walked next to her and set his hands on her shoulders. "Mica…" He began, shaking his head, his eyes suddenly revealing the pain within his heart.

She put a hand on his, shushing him with her own nod. "I know, father." _I know that we both grieve…for mother._

That silent thought was not as nearly as silent as it should have been, for his eyes grew quiet and he pulled his hands back. _If I had known…I'm sorry, Seremichala. I have failed our people._

She shook her head. _Nobody can be blamed for the coming of these invaders. All we can do is hope to survive this purge._

King Hirocon took a step back and gave an affirmative shake of his beard. "Hurry, Mica. May the stars watch over you."

Not waiting to offer a final reply, she turned and ran in the direction she had been going. The last she had seen of Rozlyn was around the inner garden. She was grateful for that; the outer gardens were beyond the protective shield.

The screams had ended outside, but Mica could still feel them shaking against her heart as she tore down the hallway. Brushing aside further tears, she steeled herself to this one mission and blocked everything else out. Nothing mattered now but getting to Rozlyn, getting her to safety. Even if safety meant…

"Rozlyn!!" She called out as she reached the entrance to the enclosed arboretum. Another explosion rumbled through the air, somehow louder than the last. Mica bit her teeth; the shield was weakening. The noise came so loudly that she barely heard the weak cries of a young girl. She turned her head in the direction of the sound, shouted out Rozlyn's name again. This time, the cries came louder.

Rozlyn was hiding in the Devnesh shrubs, curled up onto herself and rocking back and forth, terrified and frozen. Quickly, Mica ran over to the young girl, picking her up and half cradling her in her arms. Rozlyn's cries began to subside as Mica's presence soothed her worries.

"Shh…Don't cry." Mica hushed the child, brushing a lock of Rozlyn's hair out of her eyes. "I'm here now."

"I'm scared, Mica…" Rozlyn sniffled, her tears beginning to dry on her cheek. "They say bad men are coming…And mommy and daddy…They're not in the palace…"

Mica shushed her again with a weak smile. "They'll be all right…your mom and dad are strong, remember that. But right now, Amethyst needs you. You have to be strong for your sister too, ok?"

Rozlyn pushed back the last of her sniffles, smiling a bit and nodding. Mica smiled back, then hefted Rozlyn higher and turned around, just as another explosion, the loudest of all, vibrated through the air like no other before had.

Mica felt the vibration resonating through her core, and with a sinking feeling in her chest, knew what it was. The shield had finally fallen. "Mica, what was that?" Rozlyn asked, as only a six year old girl could.

Mica fought back the panic that threatened to rise in her chest and started running, holding Rozlyn tight. "We have to get going."

The central pavilion. That was where the others were clustered. Unfortunately, Mica knew, the central pavilion, standing at the exact middle of the castle, was still some distance off. And with the shield down, that run became even more terrifying, more necessary to complete at breakneck speed. With Rozlyn clinging tightly to her, the young girl's stubby arms wrapped around her neck, Mica found her pace further hindered. But she pressed on anyway, because she had to, and because there was no alternative.

She had just made the final turn around the glossy, polished floors and rustic brown arch-laden hallway when the Invader's one lucky shot sunk in. It might not have even been an artillery blast, either…in hindsight, Mica would recognize it wasn't, but at the moment, all she knew was the deafening explosion as a detonation took out the exterior wall behind her, throwing her and Rozlyn to the ground in a stunned heap as the rubble of polished granite fell around them. Mica could even feel a piece of stinging rock shrapnel skate by and graze the side of her arm, opening up a thin cut. It bled fast, but not seriously. Gritting her teeth against further pain, Mica pushed herself off of the now dust and rubble covered floor, turning her aching body around and looking towards the explosion.

The smoke cleared easily as the outside air and the horrible blood red light, filtering through the fires of Arruk-Sen's destruction, seeped into the new castle opening. A figure calmly walked inside, his arms relaxed at his sides as though he feared no attack.

Through the diminishing haze, Mica could make out his features, and her eyes slowly began to open in fear. Beside her, the spry Rozlyn also clutched tightly to Mica, now whimpering.

He loomed over them, at nearly six and a half feet tall. His clawlike hands rested in full metal gauntlets that protected him up to his elbows, and he walked in an ominous shroudlike cape that billowed around his shoulders and nearly to his iron boots. But most frightening of all was the horned helmet he wore, hiding all evidence of his face, save for two brightly shining eyes, blood red in the darkness that enfolded him.

A low and malevolent chuckle emanated from within him, and Mica felt a scream rise up and die before it even reached her tonsils.

_ZODA._

"This foolish resistance ends now, you…" He began, before pausing and taking a more examining look at the two girls frozen in fear among the rubble of his entrance.

Mica could almost feel the dark smile curl on his nonexistent features.

"Princess Mica…I almost didn't recognize you." He started again, a cold sneer in his tone. "I must say that the years have been…gracious to you."

"How…How do you know me??" Mica whispered in terror, her eyes somehow widening further. Subtly, she began to inch herself and Rozlyn away from the Prime Invader, who merely chortled in response to her query.

"Aah, so you don't remember…no matter. You don't need to know anything in order to give me what I need."

Unable to speak in voice, Mica tremblingly willed her mind to emanate her thought. _And what is that…_

With a sudden snarl, Zoda curled his fist in on itself before flashing out his claws and lunging towards them. "YOUR STRENGTH!!"

* * *

_June 25__th__, 1990_

_3:21 A.M. Coralcola Island_

With a loud gasp, Mica snapped up from the sleeping bag she was resting in, fighting against the terror that taxed her trembling heart.

Several moments ticked by in the silence of Bana Omoy's hut, with the quiet heartbeat of the island's life chirping outside and the shaman herself sleeping noiselessly, but deeply. The Argonian Princess shut her eyes and tried to ignore the tears that streamed down her face, tries hopelessly to push away the horrendous memory…

Twenty years ago. That had been twenty years ago that Arruk-Sen had fallen…that everything had fallen. It was still fresh in her mind, though…the Universe had lived for two decades. She had remained frozen, as young now as she was then. All that had grown in her in those two decades was loneliness and pain. The memories remained.

Memories that even now, she tried to forget, tried to push away from her.

She climbed free of her sleeping bag, looking around the room for a few moments before shaking her head and pulling off her nightgown, preparing for the day ahead.

When she left the hut in her familiar red dress, the island was still quiet. Mica shook her head. Nothing ever happened on Coralcola. Here, life was peaceful. Here, happiness existed unchanged.

But here was not where Mica felt she belonged. As she walked away from the village and towards the beach to the north that had become her spot of solitude, that characteristic of herself rang clear in her mind.

Mike was there when she arrived, sitting on a dried piece of driftwood with a canvas bag leaning against his leg and a thermos of something steaming up his face. He too had his head turned towards the open waves, lost in his own world.

Quietly she went up and sat down next to him, not saying a word. It took Michael Jones a while to realize her presence and react to it, jumping slightly in his seat before relaxing back down.

"Couldn't sleep either?" He finally asked sheepishly, trying to hide his embarrassment.

Mica shook her head. "Nightmares." Mike chuckled in reply and fingered his metallic thermos.

"We should really start up a club one of these days." Quickly, he reached down into his canvas bag and pulled out a similar thermos to his own, handing it over to Mica wordlessly.

She accepted it and looked at it scrutinizingly for a few moments before turning to look at him. He smiled. "It's coffee. It'll help to wake you up."

"Why would I need to wake up?" Mica asked puzzled. Mike rubbed his chin thoughtfully before shrugging.

"Well, I suppose you could try and go back to sleep."

Mica quickly twisted the thermos open and took a long sip of the coffee…hot, but not scalding. Mike chuckled. "Somehow I figured that you wouldn't feel like trying to hit the sack again."

She grimaced as she swallowed. "Ecch…it tastes bitter."

"I realize it isn't exactly Mountain Dew, but it's all I could get brewed up in a hurry." Mike apologized. "Besides, you don't drink this for the flavor, at least I don't. It's got caffeine in it…sort of a wake-up chemical."

"Hmm." Mica replied begrudgingly, taking another bittersweet sip. "If anything, the flavor will wake you up." Mike smiled.

"It will at that." He looked towards the ocean. "You know, it wasn't until I came here that I realized how powerful the ocean is."

"Oh?"

"Yeah." Mike said, blinking a few times in the dim starlight of the early morning. "It does have some sort of power over us. I just never bothered to try and understand it…until recently."

"Did you live by the ocean before you came here, to Coralcola?" Mica asked, lifting an eyebrow at him. Mike shook his head, and Mica simply clucked her tongue. "Then I don't really think you should feel a sense of guilt from not having those experiences."

Mike thought over it for a moment, then smiled and took another draw from his coffee. "I suppose you're right."

Mica nodded a bit before fingering her own thermos again, thinking of another comment. It ended up, after much deliberation, in being a question. "So what's it like…where you're really from?"

"What, my home?" Mike asked back, surprised at her sudden interest. He looked over at her, and found an open but emotionless questioning gaze leveled back at him. More than had been there before. He let the shock fade from his system for a moment and thought for a while, then shrugged his shoulders. "I come from a city called Seattle. Compared to some other cities in the world, it isn't one of the biggest. It rains a lot where I come from too."

"It sounds dismal." She said drily.

"Hey, Seattle isn't all bogus." Mike protested lightly. "It has its good moments too." He paused for a moment before shaking his head. "But…Being around here, something just feels…"

"Just feels what?"

"Like maybe this is the real way to live, and that being in a city somehow makes us less than what we're capable of." Mike finished, his eyes gaining resolve. He paused for a moment, then smiled. "You have a tough time finding Big Macs out here, though. I'd like to see anybody call a Big Mac bogus."

Mica nodded her head again and turned towards the sea. Mike clucked his tongue and followed her gaze. "So…what was your home like?"

"My home?" Mica replied, her voice gaining an ethereal quality.

"Yeah, yours…I mean, what was Argonia like?"

Mica shut her eyes for a moment as her memories, still fresh in her young body and tired spirit, rose to the front of her mind. "Argonia…was home."

Mike waited, staving off an immediate reply. His wager proved correct, and she continued. "Argonia was a planet at complete peace. All the Provinces worked together for mutual existence, and though we were technologically superior, we had few cities, choosing instead to maintain the agrarian structure of life we had held since our earliest days. The largest city, Arruk-Sen, served as the Capital for our people."

Mike blinked a few times. "Wait, wait, wait. You mean to tell me that your entire planet was one big country??"

Mica blinked in confusion. "Isn't yours?"

Dumbfounded, Mike shook his head. "I…No, it isn't. Here on Earth, we have lots of countries, lots of different peoples."

Mica frowned. "Now why would you do that? Why would you purposefully separate yourselves?"

"I don't really know, exactly…" Mike shrugged sheepishly. "My Uncle might be able to tell you…but I guess at some level it's because people around the world have different values, different beliefs, different religions, and different languages that they like to hold on to and feel proud of."

"So you don't have a unified language." Mica surmised. "And your population is divided over issues like religion and beliefs?"

"Yup, pretty much." Mike admitted. "It was just recently that the Soviet Union collapsed…my country and theirs have been in a 'Cold War' since the end of World War II."

Mica looked horrified. "World War II?? You mean…the whole planet fought each other?"

"Yeah." Mike nodded.

"That's horrible!!" Mica said, shaking her head. "Argonia was never like that!"

"So you're telling me." Mike agreed, his eyes quiet. "The common belief that all humans seem to share, though…is that Earth is special and alone."

Mica looked at him. "But this planet isn't alone."

"Yeah, I know that." Mike sighed. "But try telling that to all the billions of people out there. Mica, we're hopelessly divided. A world united underneath a single ruler, a single leadership? That isn't possible here. We've wandered so far that we'd sooner tear each other apart than get along."

Mica pursed her lips, staring out at the ocean and taking another drink.

"What are you thinking about?" Mike asked calmly.

"My home." Mica said quietly. "The royal tutors were good about educating us in history…and something occurs to me."

"What?"

"There's probably a reason that Earth is so divided…and Argonia, before Zoda annihilated my people and my world, was so unified."

"What?"

"The Sun's Loss."

"The wha…?" Mike answered quickly, blinking a few times. Mica turned and looked at him plainly until a lightbulb flashed over his head. "Oh…your story. The invaders…the Star Devils!"

"Precisely." Mica said gravely. She sighed and turned towards the ocean. "Back in the time of legend, my people were almost wiped out by invaders from the skies above. When we emerged and the Starseer vanished from our world, we were drawn together."

"Kind of like…You all realized how important everybody was, and that you couldn't afford to…"

"To separate." Mica finished, nodding her head. "But your planet's never faced such a threat, has it?"

"Not to anyone's knowledge…but if we had, are you saying that…"

"You might be more like Argonia used to be." Mica concluded sadly.

Mike leaned back a bit, rocking on the driftwood in thought.

"So how was the royalty established?"

"It just was. A part of our legends again…true myths." Mica shrugged. "Nobody really knows the exact details of how it came to pass, but shortly before the Starseer left our people and vanished into the wilderness to spend the last of his days, he announced he had chosen the wisest Argonian he knew, a woman, to lead them after he left. She was as intelligent and as beautiful as any woman could hope to be, and they obeyed the Starseer's edict. Until her death, she led the Argonians in reconstructing their lives and their communities, and strengthened the values and beliefs in a unified people that the Starseer had left behind. That woman was my family's mythological founder…Queen Sellarus Argos. After she died, her daughter assumed the throne and continued her work…and so it's continued, until my father King Hirocon Argos."

"Geez...you can go back that far?"

"We kept the memories alive long before we could write. That was how important the stories were to us." Mica explained quietly.

Mike grew silent. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For bringing up a touchy subject." Mike explained thoughtfully, taking another drink of his coffee. "It's gotta be hard to talk about this stuff."

Mica seemed to think for a long moment before shaking her head and also swigging down more of the warm caffeine. "It was hard…but the more I open up, it gets easier. I've been trying for a long time to just…"

"Live and forget?"

She nodded mutely.

"You can't forget, though…your memories, your past…those make you who you are." Mike argued. "Remembering those things gives us strength."

"Maybe they do." Mica shrugged. "There's something else to that story."

"What?"

She looked at him wryly. "Some have interpreted the legends to claim that Sellarus was in fact, the Starseer's mate."

Mike frowned. "His wife? Then why would he leave her?"

"Obviously, that's why it isn't a part of the general interpretation." Mica finished. "Though, it would explain something…"

"What?"

"Why the monarchy was so respected an institution on Argonia." Mica shrugged. "After all, if you believe that the Starseer was the father of Sellarus' Child, what that means then is that the royal lineage carries the blood of our peoples' savior."

"Seems awfully complicated to me."

Mica laughed a bit, the first honest laugh that Mike had ever heard her give to a comment of his. The tension in her face drained away, and for a fraction of a moment, her youthful features looked heartbreakingly serene in the moonlight.

Mike quickly turned to the horizon.

"It is at that." Mica concluded, still smiling a bit. "So my family never gave it much thought…it was much more important to keep the world peaceful. And we had…"

Her smile faded easily, and Mike's heart fell.

"…Until Zoda came."

The silence that hung between them could have dampened a foghorn's bellow.

"Was Argonia just a simple victim of fate?" Mike asked, looking at her. "I mean, one moment it's a peaceful planet where nothing goes wrong, and the next an Alien Invader shows up and starts destroying it all. It doesn't make much sense."

"No…not really." Mica said dimly. "Unless…"

Her eyes widened a bit, as the beginnings of a memory began to assert themselves after so many years of dormancy. She drew in a sharp breath, and Mike lifted his eyebrows. "What? What's wrong, Mica?"

She seemed to be stuck in a rut as the thoughts cascaded through her memory.

"No, no…it…it couldn't be…"

Mike frowned. "What?"

Mica blinked a few more times, then quickly shoved the thought aside. "Never mind."

Mike stared at her for a few moments more, waiting for an answer. But one didn't come. She simply turned her head to the ocean and drank some more coffee.

"I suppose there are some things you don't want me to know." Mike begrudgingly said.

"In part, yes. There's no sense in me talking to you about half-winded thoughts that are probably wrong." Mica said weakly. "And I dearly hope…that this one thought was wrong."

"Things are still all right, aren't they?" Mike asked, concern seeping into his voice.

Mica shook it off, then shrugged. "They should be." _Zoda is, after all, dead…_

Mike thought about it for a moment longer. Finally, he harrumphed and finished off the last of his coffee. "Well, as long as we're up, you wanna do something?"

"Like what?" Mica asked, as eager to turn away from the conversation as he seemed to be. Mike grinned and pointed south towards the Bay of Coralcola, and the silent waves within.

"Well, I figured maybe some fishing."

Mica blinked a few times. "Fishing? At this time of day?"

"Hey, Baboo told me once that this is the best time to do it. And seeing as nobody else seems to be awake right now…well, it's all ours." Mike continued with a grin.

"You're just looking for an excuse to get me off of this island, aren't you?" Mica muttered softly. Mike merely shrugged in reply and picked himself up off of the driftwood, then turned and headed for his uncle's laboratory.

Mica gave him an annoyed look as he marched off, a glare he seemed immune to as he gave her one last smile and a wave, not stopping his gait. "If you wanna go fishing, meet me at the docks by my Uncle's lab. I'll have Sub-C ready to sail in ten minutes."

Not even that much later, Mike Jones had pulled Sub-C out of its underwater alcove and parked it at the docks by the interior beach at his Uncle's lab. He wasn't all that surprised to find Mica waiting for him, her arms crossed and a still annoyed look on his face.

"I'm only coming along because there's nothing better to do and everybody else is still asleep." Mica said defensively as Mike hopped down from the roof of the sub deftly in front of her, pulling himself erect with his usual grin.

"I know that. But I'd rather be having fish for breakfast than any of my uncles' instant noodle packets. I don't understand how he can stomach that stuff…" Mike shook his head.

Mica looked up at the sub and then back at Mike. "So where's our fishing poles?"

Mike jerked his thumb at the sub. "Inside. Right, Nav-Com?"

_"That is affirmative, Michael."_

"You seem to have everything planned out." Mica noted calmly, walking towards the sub and reaching a hand for the rails to climb its side. Mike shrugged his shoulders.

"I had the idea to go fishing…but when I started up Sub-C, it was already fully loaded. I guess my Uncle was planning on taking another trip soon."

Mica climbed up the rest of the way and hopped into Sub-C's interior, finding Nav-Com already at the helm and expansive piles of gear and supplies piled up on the rear sub wall behind her. "Nav-Com, what were you planning on doing with all of this equipment?" Mica asked suspiciously.

Nav-Com seemed imperturbed, rolling his eyes back and forth for a minute before spinning his head around in a full circle once. _"That request does not compute. Please inquire again."_

Mike chuckled and poked his head down from above through the open hatch. "Mica, you have to ask him in his own language…Otherwise, you just get that lame answer." He tilted his head towards Nav-Com. "Nav-Com, report last programmed destination."

_"Sub-C's last sailing orders were for the vicinity of Howduyadocola in approximately two days."_

Mica stared blankly at the robot while Mike scratched at his head. "Huduyadocola…?" Mike mused finally, drawing her attention.

"What's there?" Mica asked plainly.

"Nothing much, really. A village so small it doesn't exist on maps." Mike shrugged. It took him a minute to remember what else was around there, and then he nodded his head with open eyes. "But there is something I almost forgot…"

"What?"

"The ruins that he found you in." Mike explained calmly. "Or rather, the asteroid with your stasis cubes."

"It was an escape pod." Mica argued defensively. Mike simply laughed.

"After crashing through the atmosphere and half of the island, it sure looked like an asteroid to me." He quit his laughing and relaxed on Sub-C's deck. "Nav-Com, take us out to the middle of the island. We'll fish there."

_"Affirmative, Michael Jones."_ Nav-Com chirped, quietly directing the submarine towards Coralcola's seafilled center.

Mike looked up towards the skies above, where the darkness of night still hung with the stars twinkling like flies struggling in the bluish black web. He smiled to himself for a minute before hopping down the submarine's hatch and landing next to Mica.

Despite herself, she found herself smiling at his good mood. "And why are you so happy? You're not getting any ideas about your Uncles' crazy expeditions again, are you?"

"Hardly." He chortled. "I was just thinking that it's going to be a while yet before the sun comes up."

"And what about that makes you smile?" She replied back as she headed towards the fishing poles.

Mike shrugged as only he could and stared up through the open hatch, still smiling.

"I've always liked sunrises."

* * *

The menfolk of the island natives woke up as they always did, by the slowly increasing light of morning as the nightshade hues of the sky faded and gave way to a pale peach horizon. As they rowed themselves out into the bay of Coralcola's maw, they were surprised to find the abnormal looking yellow metal fish that Dr. Jones used already in the best fishing grounds, with two figures lazily sitting on its head and fishing without a care.

It was Baboo who rowed out to them and brushed back his wild dark brown hair before whistling and waving, thinking that it had to be Michael and Dr. Jones.

He was surprised as he got closer that he was only half right.

Mike laughed and stood up from his post, reeling his line back in and setting the pole on the broad deck of Sub C. "Ahoy, Baboo!" He called out to the young man who was his Uncles' assistant.

"You're up early today, Mike." Baboo commented drily before leveling a smile at Sub-C's second passenger and bowing. "And good morning to you as well, Princess Mica."

Mica smiled back and even blushed a bit at the gesture, although the fact that Baboo never wore a shirt and his upper body was amazingly well toned probably had something to do with the heat rising in her cheeks as well.

"Aah, quiet." Mike chuckled, offering Baboo a hand to pull him to Sub-C as his canoe came closer. "You didn't come here to make small talk."

"That would be a fair guess." Baboo acknowledged. "Me and the other men came to fish…but I see that you beat us to the best spot."

Mica blinked a few times, then looked at Baboo with concern. "We're not interfering with your daily chores, are we?"

Baboo laughed. "No, we often fight to see who will get here first. It seems that today the best fishing spot is occupied by you. Do not worry, Princess. The bay is full of other places to fish, as the bountiful sea has always kept watch over us."

"Well, you're right about one thing, Baboo." Mike said, pointing down to a small wire frame net hanging beside Sub-C that acted as a mobile cage. Inside swam countless fish, all caught since Mike and Mica had begun. "This is a great spot for fishing."

Baboo took one look at the haul and whistled appreciatively. "You caught all those already?"

"Feel free to take some off of our hands." Mike suggested. "I can't cage them all."

Baboo's eyes lit up. "My, we will be busy drying fish today. We will eat well this morning!"

"That's the idea, isn't it?" Mike said, scratching the back of his head. He was interrupted by a squeal of delight from Mica as her pole bent and jerked towards the waves.

"I've got another one!" She exclaimed, beginning to reel it in with all the force she could muster. Mike tilted his head to the side, still not believing her frail looking body could create that much force to reel in the large fishes she had been getting.

Baboo clapped his hands. "Amazing, Mica! What is that, your fifth catch?"

"Errrhnn…" Mike began sheepishly, ruffling his hair again, "Actually, that's her thirtieth."

"What?" Baboo exclaimed, looking at her in disbelief, and then down at the reservoir dangling beside Sub-C full of fish. "Then how many have you caught?"

"He's caught two." Mica said with a laugh before Mike could say a bigger number. Mike glared at her and set a hand to his waist.

"Well gee, thanks Mica. Don't bother giving me time to make a bigger number so I don't feel totally useless."

Baboo guffawed heartily and slapped Mike across the back with a light tap, which still made the Seattle youth wince and stumble forth a bit. "You'd better watch out Mike. She'll soon outpace you as the hero."

Mica gently shook her head, her soft magenta tinted hair swaying back and forth in the morning breeze. "Nobody can take that away from him, Baboo." She looked up for a moment, pulling the line in even tighter against the still struggling fish as she stared at them with her piercing eyes. They seemed noticeably softer than they had been before, Mike noticed…something had changed in her since earlier this morning. "He saved me and the others, and for that we owe him a debt that can never truly be repaid."

Baboo smiled again and jumped off of Sub-C, splashing in the seawater before climbing back into his own boat. "Well, I'll go find myself another spot. You two have fun catching us breakfast."

He rowed off a fair distance away, and once again Mike and Mica found themselves in the quiet of the ocean. Mike plucked her fish off of her line and threw it in with the others they had caught, then rebaited her hook. "I'd venture that you're feeling a lot better now than you were when you woke up." Mike suggested, smiling at her. He leaned his back against the railing at the stern of Sub-C, resting his elbows on the thin metal as he looked over at her.

Mica seemed to positively glow as the sun rose up behind her. It seemed a moment to picturesque to be true, Mike thought to himself as everything seemed to freeze for that one incredible moment. With a sky of light yellow and orange crowning her face, the shimmering waves somehow providing light to enhance her radiant smile, and the tranquility of Coralcola all around them, he found himself enraptured by her expression, no matter how hard he tried not to be.

"…Mike, did you hear me?"

"Uhh, no, not really." Mike blurted out, blushing a bit as he turned his gaze to the side and stopped staring at her.

She only laughed and shook her head at him. "I said I felt terrific." She sighed and cast her line out again. "Going fishing was just what I needed to calm down this morning…especially given last night." She concluded as an afterthought.

Mike smiled again. "I'm glad I could help." He pulled himself off of the rail and went back to his own fishing pole, throwing a cast. "You get too serious too often anyways."

Her smile dimmed a bit. "It's not something I try to achieve, Mike…I just have a lot to think about."

"Too much, if you ask me." Mike chuffed. "Look, I realize you're still trying to deal with some things." He hopped down beside her, flopping on his rear and relaxing with his fishing pole in his right hand. "But I saw something earlier today I didn't like."

"What was that?" Mica quaffed.

"You thought of something, and then you bottled up again. It's like whenever you try to think about what happened in the past, you shut yourself back into your mind…and nobody can get in."

Mica was silent.

"Aah, maybe I'm just seeing something that isn't there…" Mike said despairingly, shrugging his shoulders. "…but maybe I'm not." He looked over at her, catching her piercing gaze in his own for a moment before she shyly turned away. "You spent 20 years inside of a capsule…inside of a prison created by your own mind, and by your hibernation."

"Stasis." She corrected him quietly.

"Same difference." He shot back, avoiding an aggressive tone. "I've seen you act cold, Mica. And I've seen you come out of that, just a bit." He waved his left arm for emphasis. "Today, I've seen you more relaxed, more at peace with yourself than I ever have. And Mica, that was just radical. I don't wanna see you fall back into your shell."

Mica's line hung motionless in the water, and no nibble came to it. She eventually chuckled and reeled it back in. "What are you, my counselor?"

"No." Mike replied. "Just a friend."

She paused for a moment as her lure came back up and dangled limply from the top of her rod, pondering Mikes' comment. She eventually smiled again, then looked back at him with an affirming nod.

"Thank you."

"For what now?" Mike asked, reeling in his own line.

"For caring enough about me to try and cheer me up." Mica replied easily, taking her bait off of the fishing hook and throwing the worm into the water.

"Hey, we just need to get you out more often." Mike laughed, also relieved to be pushing away from darker topics. But he was pleased with how the day had gone so far, and it showed in the bounce in his step.

It was then that Mica looked to the northeast and squinted against the rays of the rising sun. She put a hand to her forehead and looked closer, blinking a few times. "Hey Mike, what's that up there?"

Mike put his fishing pole away and stepped next to Mica, following her line of sight up to the sky, and the very small black object that slowly grew closer and closer. It took him a while before he recognized it; the sound that followed, a distinctive _whap-whap-whap_ gave it away.

"It's a helicopter, Mica." He explained, with some measure of curiosity. Mica's puzzled glance prompted him further, and he cleared his throat. "Uh, sorry. A helicopter is a kind of flying machine that humans can use to go from place to place. As a matter of fact, that's how I got to Coralcola myself, and it's really about the only way to get on or off the island short of a huge seagoing yacht."

"Well, what's it doing here now?" Mica asked curiously.

Mike took a look at the load of fish dangling from the side of Sub-C, then at Baboo not too far off yet, and then to the helicopter again.

"I really don't know for sure." Mike finally said. He hopped down into Sub-C's belly and offered a hand for Mica to come down as well, which she did. "But let's go drop our catch off to Baboo for safekeeping, and we can go and find out."

* * *

The driver of the helicopter set his flying machine down on the well tended and large painted white "H" that Dr. Jones had been allowed to put up on the southeastern of the tip of Coralcola, looking around for a moment with a frown in his eyes. He killed the engine on his craft, hearing the familiar drop in the high pitched whine of the overhead rotors, but stepped carefully as he got out, knowing that the blades would remain spinning at dangerous speeds for a few minutes yet.

He calmly pulled his sunglasses down for a moment, peering over their rim before setting them back on his head. The package he had been sent to deliver sat waiting patiently in the passenger seat of the chopper, although he had to wonder why he had to leave as early as he did in the morning in order to get it here just as the sun was reaching a decent level. A few figures were running towards him, though he couldn't hear their exuberant shouts over the noise of his dying rotors. The most prominent one also happened to be the person whose name and photograph he held as ID for the dropoff on his delivery sheet.

"Huh, so he does have a place here…Guess I lost that bet." The pilot grumbled, double checking the rapidly approaching, but winded figure against his paperwork. "That's Dr. Jones, all right."

Dr. Steven Jones came as close to the helicopter as he could safely manage before ducking his head down and slowing his barreling pace. Stumbling over to the chopper's keeper, he nodded his disheveled hair, trying his best to ignore his rumpled shirt and day old pants.

"Dr. Jones, I presume??" The pilot shouted over the roar of his engines. Dr. Jones nodded vigorously, looking towards the helicopter eagerly. "I've got a package for you here from…"

"Let me see it!" Dr. Jones ordered excitably, shaking his head. The pilot smiled a bit before wandering back and plucking out the carefully wrapped and 'fragile-do not drop' marked box from its seat, then hauling it back to the professor.

Efficiently, the deliveryman held the box against his leg and pulled out his clipboard with the notice of delivery held tightly to it. "Sign here!" He said over his engines. Dr. Jones quickly and efficiently scrawled his extended signature on the pad, then snatched the package away. The deliveryman smiled and climbed back into his helicopter, then waited for Dr. Jones to peel safely away from the diameter of his rotors before starting his engines up again and rising off into the midmorning sunlight.

As the sound faded, Dr. Jones grinned eagerly at the box, hardly aware as the villagers and a few of the Argonians, namely Giskard, Rozlyn, and Ezilian came running up to him.

It was Giskard who spoke first, beginning with his almost trademark harrumph. "So what's in the box, doc?"

"The replacement fuse for my electron microscope, it finally got here!!" Dr. Jones gushed, running past him and towards the village. A sharp whistle from his left, though, stopped him cold, and indeed the rest of the villagers who had been trailing along with him.

Dr. Jones turned and saw Mike and Mica standing at the top of the steps that led down to the beach, and he could also spot Sub-C docked by the almost clear white sands as well. Mica looked confused, and Mike grinned and gave a wave. "Hey Uncle Steve, I see you still get things sent special delivery."

A hint of annoyance in his eyes, Dr. Jones calmly strolled over to them still carrying his package. "So that's where Sub-C ran off to…You two took it."

Mike shrugged sheepishly. "Hey, neither of us could get much sleep…we figured we'd at least get some fishing in this morning. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised come lunch. Mica here's a natural at it." He jerked his thumb towards the Argonian princess for emphasis, grinning as he did so.

Dr. Jones exhaled, then shook his head. "Youth. Very well then, Mike. Just remember, that's a very expensive piece of machinery you're driving there."

"You trust me to drive a submarine, and yet the state of Washington says I'm not old enough to have my full drivers license yet." Mike joked. "Don't worry, Uncle. I haven't mangled it yet."

"So it would seem." Dr. Jones replied bemusedly. He looked around, and then jerked his head towards the boat. "Would you mind if I drove it back to my lab? It would save me a walk."

Mike shrugged and put his hands in his pockets. "It's your boat, do what you want with it."

At this, the Argonian children approached, with a beaming Rozlyn leading them. "Mica, is it true? Did you catch a lot of fish?"

Mica smiled warmly at the young girl and knelt down to look into her eyes. "Yes, yes we did."

"I bet you caught more than Mike!" Rozlyn giggled. Mike found that despite his best efforts, he could not stop the rising blush of color that went to his cheeks at that comment.

Yet Mica shook her head slowly, waving it back and forth. "No, we pretty much broke even." She looked up at him, still smiling. "Isn't that right, Michael?"

Briefly stunned by her comment, Mike eventually pulled a smile together and nodded his head. "Yeah, that's pretty much right."

Mica turned back to Rozlyn. "Well, then. Would you like to go see what we caught in the village? They're probably cooking it right now." Rozyln let out an excited yelp and wasted no time in running towards the village, tugging on Mica's arm all the time and dragging the princess along.

Giskard rolled his eyes at the sight, pausing as Dr. Jones let out a grunt. "Hmph, this is heavier than it looks. Giskard, could you come give me a hand with this? I'm going to need a second set of hands to get this into my laboratory."

The rugged youth scratched at his hair for a moment before shrugging and walking towards the archaeologist. "Sure. Not like I have anything better to do right now." The two strolled towards the beach, leaving Mike to scratch at his head for a moment as he looked over at Ezilian, whose face now seemed a bitter shade of its former self.

Admittedly, Mike had never really given much thought to Ezilian, short of seeing him as a more shifty sort of fellow. But now as the two stood there alone, the others going their separate directions, Mike felt a strange compulsion to draw a comparison between them.

Ezilian was taller; granted, he was most likely older than Mike was by two years or so…he was certainly older than Mica by a shave. While Mike's brown hair was a permanent mess no matter what he did with it, Ezilian's was smooth and slicked back. Ezilian's face wasn't marred by the blemishes or freckles of youth like Mike's was, and while he wasn't as spry or deft in appearance as Michael, he gave a more imposing sense of overall strength.

Mike eventually cleared his throat. "Well then…I suppose we should be getting to the village as well. Otherwise, Bakusian's probably gonna beat us to it and we'll have nothing for ourselves…" He chuckled a bit at his weak joke and turned, starting to walk towards the village a good seventy feet behind Mica and Rozlyn.

Ezilian sidled up next to him almost effortlessly, and with no sound at all. Mike stopped himself from shuddering, but it wasn't easy. Ezilian was once again tapping into the side of himself that put Mike at a sense of unease. "So, you went fishing today, huh?"

"Yup." Mike said, almost instantly. He ignored the strange sense of tension that rose in his arms, but he couldn't prevent his left hand from clenching into a fist as Ezilian walked to his right. "You know, I didn't think Mica would be that good with a lure, but those fish just wouldn't stop coming."

"Somehow, I think your own luck suffered." Ezilian said, smirking a bit at his minor victory. Mike tried his best to ignore the verbal jab as they strolled on. "Imagine that, beaten by a girl."

"I don't mind losing to Mica." Mike said warily. "What about you, Ezilian? Could you stand being beaten by her?"

Ezilian's smirk left his face just as quickly as it had come. "_Reklut_, Jones." He murmured softly. "If you could, clarify something for me."

"I'll be painfully honest." Mike said, refusing to let hostility seep into his voice, even though it desperately wanted to.

"I've heard mention around the villagers that you're here on vacation…I'm guessing that means you're here for a period of relaxation, am I right?"

"That would be right, yes."

"A relatively _short_ period." Ezilian emphasized darkly.

"That's also correct." Mike said, hating the conversation more and more. "What are you getting at, Ezilian?"

Ezilian stopped his easy gait and turned to face Mike, staring down at him as he stood a head above the Seattle native. "You're here on a temporary basis, but it would seem that me and the others of my race are here on a more permanent basis."

Ezilian leaned in closer and jabbed a finger into Mike's chest. "And if I were you, I'd do my best to make what little time you have left here without further incident. So you just watch yourself, Jones. I don't like all this time you're spending around Mica, and I don't like you."

"Are you making a threat, Ezilian?" Mike said flatly, staring blankly at the finger that hung mere inches from his chest.

"Yeah, I suppose I am." Ezilian sneered. "Huh, I don't know how I made it this long without scuffling with you." His face twisted into a snarl. "So you just stop whatever it is you're thinking of doing with Mica. She's _mine_, Jones. And I'll be damned if a lowly _schraklik_ like you does anything against that."

Tensed like a spring, Mike stepped away from Ezilian and glowered back at him. "Ezilian, I don't know what your problem is, and I don't care. But I sure don't like your attitude, or your message. Mica's a big girl, and you're a fool if you think you _own_ her. She can make up her own damn mind about…whatever the heck you're getting at." He shook his head, a little puzzled at Ezilian's intent, but firm enough on his response. "And if you wanna get into a scrap with me, I'd think twice. I was strong enough to defeat the guy who had nearly annihilated your race, and I'd hate to mar that perfect little face of yours."

Ezilian flushed bright red, realizing his bluff had been called. "You don't deserve that power you hold." He growled. "You don't deserve _Ellini_, or even a facsimile of it."

"Odd way to treat your savior." Mike said bemusedly, folding his arms and continuing to walk back to the village.

Ezilian eventually caught up to him, walking side by side and never once breaking stride. They both kept their eyes forward, doing their best to maintain a sense of normalcy even as it had become finally clear where they stood.

The rest of the trip was remarkably quiet.

* * *

Despite Bakusian's best efforts, breakfast hadn't been exhausted, and by the time Mike and Ezilian arrived, they found plenty of skewered meat to be had. Ezilian calmly wiped away his sour face, breaking into another perfect smile as the others came into view. Mike managed to keep his own expression at a more palatable gaze of disinterest, walking over and sitting down next to Marlin with a quiet hello.

Mica was sitting with Rozlyn again, and Amethyst as well. Ezilian wasted no time in sidling himself into the open seat beside her with another amiable, but false expression.

"Good morning yourself, Mike." Marlin said, harrumphing loudly and elbowing his friend in the shoulder. Mike jumped with a start and looked back.

"Huh?"

Bakusian snorted a bit, coughing up a bit of his food in the process. Sheepishly, he wiped his mouth and swallowed before speaking. "A little distracted, aren't we? Come on, Mike. I hear you and Mica caught most of these fish, so dig in. You deserve it!"

"Yeah, you're right." Mike agreed, reaching for a plate of skewers and calmly tearing off a bite of roasted and lightly seasoned seafood.

"You seem a bit out of it today, though." Marlin observed smoothly. "What's eatin ya, bud?"

"Nothing much." Mike said gruffly, feeling his stomach growl at last. "Couldn't sleep much, so I got an early start. I think I'm finally starting to pay for these sleepless nights."

"Hmph!" Bakusian grumbled. "I never have a problem sleeping."

Marlin winced visibly. "I should know, Baku. You SNORE loud enough for the both of us."

"Guys, guys." Mike sighed. "I don't need to hear this, do I?" He shook his head. "So what's the plan for today?"

"To be honest, I have no clue." Marlin shrugged. "I've still been practicing my throwing, but I don't know if it's paid off yet or…" He paused and shut an eye, squinting at Mike. "Have you thought of doing anything yet today?"

"Errr…no, my schedule's open." Mike said warily. A small sense of dread filled him when Marlin's grin grew larger. "Hoo boy. What are you thinking?"

"I was thinking we might…throw a BASEBALL GAME!!" Marlin said, his voice rising to a near shout at the end of the sentence. Naturally, all other conversations stopped at that, and all eyes went to Mike's table.

"What's that you're babbling about, Marlin?" Amethyst called over, lifting an eyebrow.

"We don't have much else to do today, so I was thinking we might put a baseball game together. Hey, Mike can show us how, can't you Mike?"

"I dunno…" Mike said, gritting his teeth a bit and looking around. "We really don't have enough of us to make two full teams. It'd be difficult at best."

"But is it possible?" Amethyst called out, interest gleaming in her eyes. "A little distraction might be just what the doctor ordered."

"It'd be close…in order to get enough people to even have a full outfield, we'd have at most two, maybe three people at bat at a time." Mike said, shaking his head.

"Aah, but still we could play at least some facsimile of this marvelous game you have been said to be so good at, hmm?" Ezilian said, a waspish smile curving on his face. He looked around at the other children, and the young island natives present as well, then cleared his throat. "I for one, think that having a baseball game today would be a marvelous idea. Wouldn't you agree, Mike?"

All eyes on him, Mike finally realized how trapped he was. The eager smiles of Marlin and Amethyst were now joined by the bright eyed stares of Rozlyn and even Bakusian. And all the while, Ezilian simply leaned back and folded his arms, daring Mike to squash the idea with a triumphant grin.

"I wouldn't mind learning how to play myself, really…" Mica finally added, breaking the empty air.

Mike bowed his head and sighed for a minute, then shook it and shrugged weakly. "All right. We'll start at six tonight then, after dinner."

The hurrahs rose up with such force that Mike almost reflexively reached to cover his ears. Marlin punched him in the arm and laughed. "Man, I just KNEW you'd be up for it. Oh, it's gonna be fun, I tell you…"

Smoothly, Ezilian swallowed down the last of his fish and got up, strolling by Mike's table and giving him a pat on the back that left the young boy wincing. "Well, Mike, you have made my day just now."

"I'll bet I have." Mike grumbled, rubbing at the sore spot on his back. "You've got quite an arm on you."

"So some people have told me in the past." Ezilian said, still grinning like a shark. "I'll be looking forward to tonight…I suppose now we'll see that famous pitching arm of yours in action for real, eh?"

"Count on it." Mike said back firmly, nodding his head ever so slightly as his eyes narrowed.

Ezilian mustered one final wave goodbye to the breakfasters, then strolled off with his hands in his pockets, humming a bright diddy.

Mike shook his head and went back to his fish, not looking up again. Marlin's grin faded and he tapped Mike's shoulder. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Just a little unfriendly competition, is all." Mike said dourly. "Nothing I can't handle."

"You and Ezilian have a beef or something, man?" Marlin prodded.

Mike swallowed another mouthful of freshly caught fish, looking up and across to where Mica sat casually chatting with Amethyst and rubbing Rozlyn's hair, who squirmed at the attack. Something Amethyst said made Mica smile and laugh, and Mike found himself unable to break his stare for a long moment.

He shook his head and went back to his meal.

"Something like that."

* * *

It was shortly after the sun had reached its apex that Bana Omoy at last awoke from her slumber, emitting an audible distressed gasp. Her eyes, aged but still sharp and full of forgotten wisdom, went left and right as she reestablished her surroundings, flexing her arms for a long moment to make sure that they still worked, then she rose up from the bed, gently pushing the covers away from herself.

"Mica…Mica, are you here?"

"I'm here, Bana." Came Mica's reassuring voice. She walked over from her own bunk to the shaman's cot, smiling at her. "Finally awake, I see."

"There was much to be dreamed of." Bana said raggedly, stubbornly pulling herself into a sitting position. "Water."

Mica pulled over a gourd of water to Bana, who took a long draw and sighed. "I thank you, child."

"It's all right." Mica replied. "It was no small favor to let me stay with you here."

Bana pulled herself off of her bed and ran a hand through her thinning hair. "I am given much by my position and rank…But being so old, I hardly need it all. There was room to spare for one so needing as yourself." She looked over at Mica. "What time is it?"

"A little after what is called 'noon'." Mica shrugged. "I didn't want to bother you."

"It is unlikely you could have, Mica." Bana pulled herself to her feet and stretched, shaking her head. "The dreams are important these days."

Mica lifted an eyebrow. "What do you dream of?"

"Things in the past…the fog of days that are not yet here. Signs that the stars offer me, but which would be gibberish to others." Bana reached for her comb, still speaking. "You see, Mica, through dreams or meditation, the stars are always talking to me. On rare occasions, or when I am particularly focused, I can listen to them." Bana began combing her hair, looking at Mica. "I would imagine that the stars speak to you as well."

Mica said nothing, and Bana smiled with a shrug. "Perhaps I am wrong."

"Mike and I went fishing this morning."

"Oh?"

"Yes, we caught quite a few…there still should be some left, if you are hungry."

"Perhaps later." Bana said, still brushing. "So…you and Mike. I am glad to see that you two are getting along. I remember those first few days…you hardly gave him the time of day."

"I had some things I needed to figure out."

"Some demons to push away, hmm?" Bana surmised, glancing at Mica again with her perceptive eyes. "He has troubled dreams, just as you do, you know."

Mica frowned. "They're just dreams, Bana."

"Dreams are made to tell you something, Mica." The shaman corrected the Argonian princess. "Don't dismiss them so easily."

"If they're supposed to tell me something, then I'm just reliving very old and very horrible memories." Mica replied curtly. "And whatever Mike's going through, it's something he doesn't feel like sharing, but it must be something similar."

"Hmm." Bana mused. She finished brushing her hair and set the comb down. "My own dreams have become more troublesome as of late. It must be something we all share."

"What, you have bad memories as well?"

"No…not exactly." Bana said cryptically. "So what do you have planned for today, my child?"

"Marlin got Mike to agree to running a baseball game early tonight." Mica began, a smile appearing. "We're all looking forward to it, but Mike seems lukewarm to the idea at best. He seemed…Weirder this morning when he got to breakfast." Mica thought for a long moment, then shook her head. "I really don't know why."

"You might ask him afterwards." Bana suggested coolly. "Somehow…I think he would be willing to give you an answer to that."

Mica gave Bana an accusing stare. "I still haven't figured out why you're always so vague. Why can't you just give me a straight answer once in a while?"

Bana shrugged, a small smirk on her face. "Let the years wear on you as they have me and see how you yourself will turn out." Bana yawned and headed for a clothes cabinet. "In any case…I must prepare myself for the day ahead, so if you'll excuse me…"

Mica rolled her eyes and headed for the door, stopped by a final comment from the shaman as she began to disrobe. "Oh, and Mica?"

"Yes, Bana?"

"I did give you a straight answer just then…ask him tonight, after your game. I imagine that you two will have a lot to share."

Mica shook her head again and left the hut, closing the door behind her.

Wearily, Bana looked into the mirror as she adjusted her headdress, her tired eyes glancing back into her memories.

"The two of you…must share, and must understand. Or else, we might all…" Bana's voice trailed off, and she shut her eyes.

The rest was too foggy and too frightening to ponder.

* * *

Dr. Jones adjusted his glasses for a few moments, staring at the computer screen's countdown indicator as it finished calculating the massive amounts of data it had collected from the electron microscope's data.

After replacing the necessary fuse and powering the massive device up, he had finally been able to begin his examination of his nephew's silvery weapon he had called "Super Nova". The imaging itself had taken a good forty five minutes to even do a close up scan of tiny sections of the Nova's chain, grip, and one of the spiked points on the head. Mapping the entire thing would have taken days and more memory than he could spare…ten megabytes didn't go far. He found himself wishing he had spent the extra 600 to get the twenty megabyte standing hard drive instead, despite the fact it took up as much room as a closet.

His Apple II's monitor continued to flash the percentage completed as it went, albeit slowly.

Impatiently, the archaeologist finally picked up his voice recorder and clicked it on.

"June 25th, 1990. Location, my laboratory, Coralcola Island. Time; Twelve forty-two P.M. After a helicopter from Hawaii arrived earlier today with my package from Daierstrohm Enterprises, I was able to finally make repairs to the electron microscope that is located here. Being the only available electron microscope for several hundred kilometers, it holds vital importance to this region's scientific community, but mostly to myself. I have been anxiously awaiting for some time now to more methodically examine the mysterious artifact that my nephew Michael Jones returned with following his bizarre…adventure."

Dr. Jones had paused over the last word, wondering just how much he should reveal in his records. Frowning for a moment, he finally decided that these would be for his personal archives, much like everything else directly concerning matters of the present and the Argonian children.

"According to what he has told me, the object I am scanning, his "Super Nova" began as a chained mace called the Morningstar, given to him by the Amazonian warriors of Shecola. It was only upon touching the first Argonian magic cube that it transformed into its current, silvery incarnation. Needless to say, I found this dubious at best to believe, for the concept of transformation of objects or their transfiguration is by our current scientific knowledge, an impossibility. Then again…I have had previous beliefs shaken in the last few months as well. Needless to say, my questions will best be answered by direct inquiry and research, and so I find myself waiting for the electron microscope and my databank to finish compiling the images taken."

Dr. Jones looked back at his screen and finally cracked a smile. The time he'd spent talking had been enough to narrow the remaining data compilation into a few seconds. Finally, they passed by and the screen flashed with running lines of data and files.

_**Do you wish to view images Y/N?**_

Dr. Jones calmly typed a Y and hit enter, watching with interest as the screen brought up a slideshow format of his images, a novel innovation in the software that allowed him instant access to the pictures scanned without waiting for a printer. The graphics were black and white, and a little crude on his simple monitor, but their grainy quality didn't bother him.

A few seconds later, his eyes widened. The quality of the images weren't bothering him at all. It was the images themselves.

Frowning, he readjusted his glasses again and clicked the right arrow on his keyboard for the next image. He saw the same thing.

Still feeling a sense of disbelief, he continued on, scanning through each image faster and faster until he didn't even bother to fully look at them all.

"No, this isn't possible…" He whispered, shaking his head. "They can't make metal this…this…"

Finally, he stopped shuffling through his computerized slideshow, focusing on a near atomic level closeup of the weapon's chain.

The image shown revealed a surface of the object that was completely smooth. No ridges, no blemishes, no tiny cracks at all. Impossibly smooth. There wasn't a technique Dr. Jones knew of that had ever made an object so smooth, even the roundest and smoothest oyster's pearl when put under a microscope this intense showed its atomic and subatomic faults.

But if these images were correct, and they were…

_My nephew's weapon…was formed at a subatomic level._

Still distraught, he cleared his glasses again. "This is insanity, things aren't made like this…"

There came a knock at his door, causing the doctor to hastily put his spectacles on and toggle the electron microscope's power off. "Enter!" He called out quickly. The latch quickly cracked open, and Baboo strolled in with Mike following a little ways behind him.

"Aah, Baboo." Dr. Jones said with a smile. "How goes the preparations?"

"I have nearly all the supplies loaded that you had on the log. It should be ready by tomorrow." His assistant replied, running a hand through his hair. "I apologize for the delay, but this morning's activities disrupted my work."

"Yes, namely my nephew's escapades." Dr. Jones said calmly, looking to the boy his brother had sent to him. "So Mike, what can I do for you?"

"Nothing much." Mike said, shrugging his shoulders. "Just wanted to see what you were up to, I guess."

"Well, you may be of some use to me yet." Dr. Jones replied, turning to Baboo. "Continue stocking up the supplies. Ask Nav-Com for help if you need it."

Baboo gave a short nod of his head and walked out of the laboratory, leaving the two Joneses alone. Mike lifted an eyebrow and crossed his arms.

"What's so blessedly interesting about the vicinity of Howduyadocola that you'd restock Sub-C with every sort of supply possible?"

His uncle smiled at Mike, shaking his head. "Figured me out, did you?"

"Nav-Com's good about answering direct questions."

"Well yes, I am going to Howduyadocola in relatively short order. You remember the ruins there?"

"Vividly." Mike said drily. "It was an interesting place to visit, no doubt about that. And your reason…?"

"The short answer is simply that I believe there's still some answers that that place hasn't revealed to me."

"The long one?"

"My initial inquiries into the ruins were an almost haphazard glance…I was drawn there by the stories of one year prior, and how lights filled the skies. The residents by Howduyadocola told me that the meteor shower was far more intense…It was in my investigation I found both the ruins and the source of the natives' account, that being the escape pod used by the Argonian children to escape their planet."

"Forget I even asked." Mike winced, rubbing at his ears. His uncle laughed a bit, then looked behind him and reached for the Super Nova, pulling it out of the examination chamber in his electron microscope.

"Now then, I'd best return this to you. I just finished my studies on it."

Mike reached slowly for the silvery chained mace, feeling a resurging strength flow through him as Dr. Jones handed it back to him. Appreciatively, he lofted its weight in his hands, then quietly wrapped up the chain and set the grip through the loop on the side of his jeans. "You find anything interesting?"

"Oh, a few things." Dr. Jones said quietly. "Could you remind me how you came into the possession of it?"

Mike looked down at the relic hanging from his pants, blinking a few times. "This thing started off as the Morning Star that the Shecolans gave me. But like I told you, when I grabbed the first magic…sorry, stasis cube, the red one? When I picked it up, I just felt a lot of…well, energy I guess, going through me. A little bit like electricity, only worse than that time I got shocked when I was little. But it didn't stay in me, Uncle Steve. It went down to my hand, then into my weapon. It glowed for a few seconds, almost blinded me…then when I was able to look again, all the red had faded from it, and I found myself looking at this perfectly polished and formed weapon right here."

He lightly pressed his finger against one of the points on the Super Nova's head, still amazed to find it incredibly sharp after all this time as it pricked him. "It doesn't make sense, Uncle Steve, I know that. But I swear to God that's how it happened."

"Given what I saw in my extreme closeup images of it…that's about the only way it could have happened."

"Beg'r pardon?" Mike said, lifting an eyebrow.

Dr. Jones sighed and rubbed at his bald spot. "All right, let me explain. Every object in the world has a rough and grainy quality to it when you examine it up close. You know how smooth a glass marble is? Well, when you reach a supermicroscopic level, that smoothness vanishes. It always does, because that's just the way particles of any given object are. But when I scanned your Super Nova after replacing the burnt fuse…It was perfectly smooth, Mike. Even approaching a molecular level, every aspect of it was completely smooth. They can't make things like that, Mike. Your weapon, it defies science."

Mike blinked a few times, letting it soak in. "Which means…"

"Somehow, the Argonians, trapped as they were inside of the stasis cubes, created impossibilities." Dr. Jones concluded for him.

Mike shook his head. "That's bogus, Uncle Steve."

"And yet it still happened." Dr. Jones exhaled. He shook his head and walked over to his computer, turning the screen back on and after a few moments, saving his work. "That said, there's little need for you to worry about such things."

"It's a little late to tell me not to worry about stuff, Uncle Steve." Mike chuckled dourly. "You should have done that before I had to face off against Zoda and his bunch of troublemakers."

"I know." Dr. Jones said quietly. "And I apologize for that, Mike…My actions thrust you into a mess, and I can't begin to fathom how that's affected you."

His nephew ran a hand through his hair, thinking for a moment. "You know something, Uncle Steve?"

"What?"

"Yeah, there's been a lot of bogus things that have happened…but they haven't all been bad." The adolescent smirked at that. "Heck, some things have even been…good." He turned and grinned at his uncle. "So don't worry the rest of your hair off, okay? Things are fine."

Dr. Jones relaxed and smiled back. "I'm glad to hear that, Mike. So what are you up to today?"

"Aah, the kids managed to force me into running a baseball game."

"Baseball? That's your favorite sport, I'd imagine you'd be enthusiastic about the idea." Dr. Jones mused loudly.

"Normally, sure." Mike sighed. "But the game I'll be doing tonight, I'm not looking forward to. Not with Ezilian in it…"

"Ezilian? Isn't he the oldest boy of the Argonians?" Dr. Jones asked.

"Yup. He also doesn't seem to like me much." Mike scratched at his head. "It's not like I did anything to the guy, outside of saving his life."

"Well, what did he do?"

"He threatened me, primarily. Got a real edge to him…competitive."

"Well, you must have done something to get on his nerves…"

"Hell, he's always been kind of cold." Mike snorted. "I suppose, though…"

"What?"

"He did tell me to stay away from Mica, for some reason." Mike said, shaking his head. "Why would he go off and say something like that?"

Though Mike had a hard time understanding, his uncle's eyes widened slowly, and he nodded with a brief smirk. "So that's how it is then, eh…"

"What, you know what his problem with me is?"

"It's not something that's easily solved…but it is something that you two will have to work out in due course. For now though, don't be too worried. He's just trying to regain alpha status."

"Huh?"

"Never mind." Dr. Jones said calmly. He waved his hand towards the door. "I have some other things to wrap up here…but before you go, just let me tell you to stop worrying so much and try to have fun tonight at your game. I think you'll find that that's the easiest thing to do."

"I'll do my best, Unc." Mike said, nodding his head and turning for the door. It shut behind him easily, leaving Dr. Jones alone in his laboratory.

Calmly, the archaeologist picked up his voice recorder and activated it again. "Previous date, same location. I have just finished my viewing of my nephew's "Super Nova", and much to my surprise, found its composition to defy every known law of metallurgy. This would seem to corroborate his story that indeed, the Super Nova is a product of a more metaphysical transfiguration than simple metalsmithing. Yet a greater question comes to my mind as a result of this fantastic find; The contents of the Argonian stasis cubes were not powerful relics or lost technology, but children, the last survivors of their planet. Yet the cubes they resided in were capable of accomplishing, for all purposes, miracles…so there must be, by simple elimination, something more to the Argonians than they would care to admit."

He eased back into his head, exhaling slowly. "For now, it would do me little good to press the issue on them. Work also continues in my preparations for a return expedition to the ruins by Howduyadocola. My nephew's escapades briefly derailed Baboo's work, but my assistant has assured me that Sub-C will be ready to sail by tomorrow afternoon. My discovery of the ruins was what led me to discover the space pod that the stasis cubes had inhabited…and inevitably, my involvement in Zoda's own machinations, forced as they were."

The archaeologist paused again, allowing his brain's thoughts to catch up with him. "Zoda, for what little I thankfully saw of him, came off more concerned with control and force than anything else. It was obvious he came a long way to reach the space pod the Argonian children were sent on…That is something most cost prohibitive, I would wager. No, while he was responsible, according to the children, for the complete destruction of their people and world, Zoda seemed to me not one prone towards psychotic episodes of genocide."

Dr. Jones shut his eyes. "He was after something else…and it may yet prove that the same thing Zoda, now dead along with the rest of his contingent thanks to the actions of my nephew, was after…May well be the same intangible, indescribable power that caused the Super Nova to be created in its unique way."

With a sense of finality, he clicked the recorder off, chewing at his lower lip as he set the device down on his desk.

"Lord only knows…what they still keep hidden."

* * *

_Arruk-Sen, 1970 A.C.E.(Earth Relative)_

_The Royal Palace_

Princess Mica was too terrified to even scream as Zoda hurled himself towards her and Rozlyn, still mired in the rubble of his explosive entrance. As if his aura exuded fear, she knelt frozen, curling protectively around Rozlyn in the only act she could perform.

A cry, one of infuriated rage, echoed down the corridor just as an explosive blast of energy came from behind the girls and impacted in Zoda's chest, hurling him backwards into a stumble and halting his charge. Stunned, Mica swerved her head around to see her father, King Hirocon Argos, standing grimly behind them in the corridor they had tried to flee to as a locus of energy glowed furiously around his hand.

"That's as far as you get, you monster…" He growled, stepping purposefully past the girls and in front of Zoda.

The invader clutched a hand at his chest, taking a moment to breathe. "And to think I had almost forgotten pain." He turned up and lowered his hand from his wound, which seemed to be little more than a tarnished mark on his armor. "King Hirocon…how nice to see you." He announced drily. "However, you do not interest me."

Mica felt a lump tighten in her chest as Zoda said it so casually, tilting his helmet to the side to stare past her father and straight into her terrified eyes. Her grip on Rozlyn tightened, causing the girl to squeak involuntarily.

Hirocon growled low in his throat, his other hand beginning to glow as well. "Mica…listen to me carefully." He said, never once pulling his eyes away from the armored foreigner that carefully clacked his clawed gauntlets together. "Take Rozlyn…and go. Go to the others."

Zoda chuckled at that. "What are you doing…trying to buy them time? Get them away from me? Why Hirocon, how noble of you." He snarled the last sentence and leapt towards the girls in a sudden burst of speed even faster than before.

"NO!!" Hirocon barked, clasping his hands together into a balled fist and swinging his arms like a hammer around and into Zoda's side, the force of his attack and the glowing energy that exploded and crackled on contact hurling the alien away once again. Hirocon gasped from the strain of the blow, taking a step backwards and turning to Mica once more. "Run…" He wheezed. "I'll come soon…"

Mica, terror now giving way to worry, nodded her head once and stood up. The sensation of fear gone, she picked Rozlyn up into her arms and ran as fast as she could in the opposite direction. Hirocon breathed a silent sigh of relief, turning away from the two girls and back towards his opponent.

Zoda stubbornly pulled himself out of the rubble once more, hastily reaching for the laser blaster at his side before he thought better of it, shaking his head. "I see you've improved your skills…Sadly, they're still not enough. Not for what I want." He pulled his hand away from his weapon and purposefully clacked the metallic claws.

"You stay away from her." Hirocon said, his voice shaky.

Zoda chuckled. "Still playing the hero…Honestly, I have no idea what Tanelia saw in you. You always were relying on her, and her strength…That's why I have little fear of you now." His eyes glowed a darker red. "She taught you well, but there is only so much one of Sellarus' line can do for an outsider."

"Don't you dare speak of my wife like that, you traitor."

"Traitor?" Zoda mused wryly. "Hmmph, perhaps so. As for your wife…it is a shame that she died in our invasion…tragic, really. I wasn't expecting her to be on that station when we struck it down." Zoda shrugged. "Accidents do happen, I suppose."

"_KYRCHAI!!" _Hirocon roared, leaping towards Zoda with another flash of energy blasts from his hands. Zoda seemed to pause and consider the assault for a moment before easily stepping to the side of the first blast, lifting his palm up to absorb the brunt of force from the other, and then whirling about and delivering a vicious backhand to the raging king. Hirocon stumbled backwards, dazed from the blow to the side of his head which already had begun to bleed.

Zoda laughed again, a low basso that reverberated in the hazy and smoke filled air. "You honestly hoped to stop me…Me, the Prime Invader? God, you're even more disillusioned than I thought. Just stop this now and step aside."

"Never." Hirocon rasped, summoning forth more of his strength, glowing brighter still. "You shall not have her, and you shall not have the others."

Zoda shook his head. "The others I could care less about…true, they are children of nobility, and therefore entitled to some of the mystical gifts descended down from ancient times…but it is only your precious Princess and heir Seremichala Argos that holds what I want." Zoda blurred out of sight and appeared behind Hirocon, his clawed gauntlet flashing around his throat, lifting him up and squeezing. "_Hirocon, let me make one thing clear…I will have the power of Sellarus's line for myself._"

"Never…" Hirocon gasped, struggling against Zoda's firm grip. Running short on ideas, he jammed his open hands around Zoda's gauntleted fist and willed, as best as he could, his mystical talents to inflame the metal to an unbearable degree of heat.

Zoda roared at the sudden pain, releasing Hirocon and stumbling backwards, tearing furiously at his gauntlet as it continued to burn the hand inside, superheating until the metal glowed bright orange and the king of Argonia could smell the wafting scent of charred flesh.

Screaming now, Hirocon charged Zoda straight on with a double fisted roundhouse swing that sent Zoda reeling once more, crackling with the energies he expelled from his body.

Breathing heavily, Hirocon dropped his cloak away from him, trying to catch your breath. Zoda laughed a bit longer and stepped towards him, shaking off the stupor from the blow.

"The power of Sellarus' line, if used properly, was never meant to drain away ones' vitality. It seems that you never did manage that." Zoda murmured. "Though I had best wrap this up before you get too desperate and try something stupid." He pulled out his laser blaster at last, leveling it slowly at the exhausted Hirocon. "Farewell, Hirocon…It was pleasant meeting you again."

Hirocon stared blankly at the open barrel of Zoda's blaster, knowing that the burst of compacted light would superheat whatever it hit, causing it to rupture in what resembled a clear burnthrough. He knew that Zoda aimed it not at his chest or an arm, but his head.

But he also knew that he could not let that happen…

Zoda fired a single shot, the burst echoing through the flickering hallways of the castle. Silence followed…And then the invader let out a sudden gasp of disbelief.

His eyes shut, his jaw tightly wired, and his hands clenched at his sides, Hirocon remained unscathed as a shimmering presence of air revolved around the fired laserburst, suspending it in a perfectly frozen state, maintaining its kinetic energy.

"No, Zoda. No." Hirocon said quietly, opening his dull eyes to look at his nemesis. "You took Tanelia from me, you destroyed our people, and you might now be strong enough to kill me…but I cannot let you."

"Impossible…" Zoda hissed, taking a step back and firing again. The second shot met a similar fate, slowing down until it too froze in midair alongside its cousin. "NO!"

Hirocon slowly extended a hand out until his fingertips were nearly touching Zoda's dangerous blasts, his fingers trembling at the strain of keeping them frozen. "You took hope from my world and my life…you shall not have Mica's."

Zoda snarled and flung his blaster aside, charging at Hirocon with his clawed fingers bared.

Sweat still running across his brow, Hirocon flung himself flat against the floor, watching as Zoda soared harmlessly overhead and skidded to a halt behind him.

And then he released his hold on Zoda's laserbursts.

The swirling air vanished from the shots, and they soared on, striking through Zoda's side and the thigh of his right leg. Roaring in pain and now agony, Zoda could do little more but crumple into a kneel as his senses threatened to overwhelm him.

"No more." Hirocon murmured softly, picking up Zoda's abandoned laser blaster and walking towards his wounded foe, cocking it. "It ends here, Zoda..."

"You still can't call me by my real name, after all we went through?" the invader wheezed, trying his best to stop the flow of blood from the wound in his side.

"That man died a long time ago. Now his shadow will finally perish as well." Hirocon whispered, raising the pistol and aiming it between the glowing red eyes of Zoda's helmet.

Too late to act, Hirocon was blasted from behind with a trio of laser blasts, each burrowing a hole through him while avoiding his vital organs. He cried out in pain, dropping Zoda's pistol and running away for cover, towards the direction of Mica's departure and away from Zoda.

As he made it far enough away to activate with a wounded kick a security panel close by, he caused the security blast door to slide down in the hallway. Zoda lurched to his feet and make a stumbling run for him as a pair of his alien deathtroops walked in through the hole of the outer wall Zoda had made. All three tried to no avail to blast Hirocon away, but their shots met harmlessly against the thick metal of the blast door that mercifully slid down between the two sides, blocking them off.

Now in incredible pain, and only minutes away from blackout, Hirocon turned about and forced his overtaxed body, now riddled with wounds, to march stolidly towards Mica and the other children…and towards their freedom.

Behind him, through the thick door, he could hear Zoda's dark laughter carry through, sink into him, accompanied by the hammering sound of vibrodrills pounding against the barrier.

"Run all you like, Hirocon…No door can hold me forever, and then your precious Mica is _MINE!_"

Hirocon squeezed his eyes shut against his tears and kept on.

He didn't have long.

* * *

Mica looked around the room despairingly; Outside of her and Rozlyn, only five others had made it to the relative safety of the Castle's inner launch bay. There was Rozlyn's big sister Amethyst who cried out and ran to her younger sibling, grasping her tight and holding her close. There was Bakusian, who for once looked as though food was the farthest thing from his mind. Giskard paced back and forth nervously, saying nothing but finally having a reason for his sour disposition. Even Marlin had his joviality knocked out of him, leaning against a wall as he sat on the floor, shaking his head back and forth. And then there was Ezilian, who passed one worried look over Mica before she shook her head and assuaged his fears; No, she was all right. Ezilian visibly relaxed, even exhaling. "Thank the stars."

Rozlyn glanced around, sobbing a bit. "Where's mommy and daddy?" She asked, guiding the question towards Amethyst, but loud enough for all to hear.

Amethyst blinked back tears and bit on her lip. "Mom and dad…they're…"

"They're dead." Ezilian stated flatly. Rozlyn's horrified expression focused on him, and Amethyst glared.

"Damnit, Ezilian…"

The seventeen year old shrugged coldly, seeming distant somehow from the entire situation. "I won't go making lies or holding out useless hope, Amethyst, and you shouldn't either." He tapped his fingernails impatiently along his arm. "Argonia…our cities have been razed to the ground. The Queen has been killed. And our parents…all the nobles…gone. They were in those cities, and now they're dead."

"You seem awfully nonplussed about the matter." Giskard groused. "I suppose that's because your parents died and left you some time ago."

Ezilian's indifferent gaze flashed with a hint of hidden fire. His body tensed up and he growled.

"Stop it, both of you!" Mica shouted, her quavering voice silencing them all. She fought back her own expression of hopelessness, shaking her head. "I know that my mother is dead…I don't need you reminding me of that." She said tersely towards Ezilian. "But we can't be afraid…we can't. And moping won't do us any good."

"It's not like we can exactly stop them…Even you can't Mica, and your connection to _Shilivre _is the greatest of all of us." Marlin murmured. "So what can we do?"

The sound of a door opening behind them caused the children to whirl about, and an adrenaline filled Mica brought her hands to bear, setting them out palms forward with a glowing locus of light around them.

All breathed in a sigh of relief, especially Mica, when King Hirocon Argos walked through. It took them a while to notice how haggard he looked, how smashed up he had become. Blood ran freely from a small gash on the side of his head, mingling a darker tint into his grizzled beard. He walked with a limp, and as he wheezed in his approach, they finally noticed how they could see behind him…Through three perfectly scoured holes in his body, perfect hits from the piercing power of the space pirates' blaster weaponry.

"Father!" Mica shrieked in dismay, while at the same time, Ezilian offered a similar response of shock by uttering "Your highness…"

Clutching a hand at his shoulder where one of the holes was resting, Hirocon shook his head. "I'm…all right, for now…" Still, he didn't argue when Mica took him over to a chair and set him down.

"What are your orders, your highness?" Ezilian asked quickly, seeking to regain control of the situation.

Hirocon laughed a bit. "Highness…even now, I suppose…that still means something to you all?"

The children looked blankly at him, none more confused than Mica. Hirocon exhaled a sigh full of pain and weariness, and looked over to Rozlyn and Amethyst. "Children…We are all that is left, as far as I can tell. This Zoda has led his armada to complete victory, our cities are razed, our civilization is destroyed." Pain in his eyes, he fought back against tears. "There is nothing for you here now. Nothing but suffering and death."

Rozlyn brushed a row of tears away from her eyes. "Mommy and daddy…they're really dead, aren't they?"

Hirocon had a quiet sympathy to his expression as he slowly nodded his head. "I couldn't save them…I couldn't save my kingdom…and I couldn't save my people from this monster." Gritting his teeth against the pain, he forced himself to his feet. "But…I can save you."

The children looked at each other, the weight of the situation still so heavy in their thoughts that little of what he said made it through. Hirocon motioned towards the rounded, asteroid looking craft resting in the middle of the room.

"This…is your way to freedom, children."

"That looks like an older model 'Astreth' Class deepspace pod." Ezilian stated calmly, looking towards Hirocon. "But those aren't designed to be inhabited…They're self-automated."

Hirocon nodded weakly. "I realize. But there's a function not as well known about, Ezilian." He lifted a hand towards the side of the rock shaped craft, where three cubic indentations lay. "Those…are the storage compartments for this craft. Long ago, before the mastery of _Shilivre_ became mastered by the descendants of Sellarus, it was crafts like this one that carried us. So it will carry you again…but in a form wholly different."

Wearily, the king looked at them all. "I did not think we would ever use this…certainly not for you children, but…We have run out of options."

Rozlyn sniffled a bit. "What are you gonna do, King 'irocon?"

Ezilian's hand went to Mica's shoulder, clamping down with a tight squeeze that almost made her wince from the force of it. "King Hirocon…you can't be serious. Surely, you're not planning to…"

His voice ran off, and he looked from the well camouflaged spacecraft to a strange device in the same room.

Hirocon did not flinch.

"Blast it, the stasis cubes were meant for transporting goods, not people!!" Ezilian said in an incredulous outburst. Ezilian's explosive cry finally triggered a sense of panic in the children old enough to suddenly recall what Ezilian was getting at.

"We have no choice." Hirocon said quietly. "If I were to try and get you out of here as you are…you would never make it. But inside the stasis cubes, you stand a chance of making it, both in the escape…and the journey that will follow."

Mica's throat was dry, and she coughed before trying to speak. "You…you would suspend us, turn us into…mere patterns of energy and brief traces of matter…Is that not what stasis cubes do?"

"Yes." Hirocon affirmed. "It's…it's the only way, Mica. The only way I can give you all life." He motioned towards the boys, Ezilian, Marlin, Bakusian, and Giskard. "You four…you're first. Step aboard the transfiguration pad."

The seven Argonian children looked around the room, the lights dimming as the noise of explosions echoed closer and closer, and the sound of animalistic screams and whoops sounded as well. Perhaps it sunk in then, in that moment of quiet and thought that the truth of the matter, dissuaded by adrenaline and the terror of the hours and minutes past, was exactly as Hirocon had described it. They all grew up a little more at that, but all recognized its accuracy.

There was nothing for them here. Nothing but death.

So the boys turned to one another, and it was Ezilian that finally nodded his head as a sign to do as the king commanded…one last time. Begrudgingly, they all stepped up onto the pad still carrying a sense of foreboding as King Hirocon limped to the controls of the stasis inducing device, activating it with a few keystrokes. A strange cathode descended from the ceiling above their heads, and Hirocon gave them one last glance and nod.

Ezilian turned to look at Mica, a quiet determined fire awakening in his eyes. "Seremichaela…I will be waiting for you."

"And I for you." Mica barely managed to choke out, her shaky voice by the situation and not of his own actions. But he seemed to smile triumphantly to himself at that, and gave one last affirming nod of his head. Hirocon accepted the gesture, taking one last glance at the varied expressions on the four, then pulled a lever, filling the room with a sudden whine and kaleidoscopic flash of energy.

Slowly, the sound and light died down, and little Rozlyn, still afraid, whimpered. "What happened to them?"

Hirocon looked to her for a moment before walking towards the platform where the boys had once stood. "The technology to create stasis cubes takes matter, both living and dead, and compacts them into the sum of their pieces…shrinking them into a compilation of matter and energy that can be stored as an identifiable pattern. Their contents are frozen, perfectly preserved, until such a time as the cubes created are joined together, releasing their contents intact." He leaned down slowly and picked up a tiny box, fingering it gently before holding it flat in his palm for the girls to see. "They also reflect, in the case of sentient occupants…the kind of emotion they hold."

The boy's cube, Mica noted, glowed a bright red.

Hirocon turned to Rozlyn and Amethyst. "You two are next."

Rozlyn looked up to Amethyst, worry still on her face. "Ami…We're gonna be okay, right?"

Amethyst swallowed down her own fears, smiling at her younger sibling and hugging her close. "Of course we are." She looked over to Mica. "Won't we, Princess?"

Mica knew what Amethyst wanted her to say. She knew that they had to keep their morale high…that above all else, they could not lose hope. If her father's last attempt to save them all was to work, then no time could be spared on reassurances. It had to boil down to faith for their survival.

But she was now the sole living member of the Argonian royal family that kept all of its secrets. And in what she had been forced to memorize…

She could feel a hundred different moments, a thousand similarities, and ten different sections of the sacred texts all ring inside of her, shaking her core and the very foundation of her beliefs. But she could not reveal them, could not, even for a moment, share that burden that only her mother had held before her.

So she smiled as best as she could and nodded back. "We'll…we'll be fine, Rozlyn.

Rozlyn, easily persuaded by the two confident looking older girls in the room, nodded her head and let herself be led by Amethyst to the platform. She waved one last time at Mica, her tinny voice barely escaping the dim of the device as it powered back to life. "I hope you'll be there…when I wake up."

The same chromatic light enveloped the room once again, and died down to reveal a second cube; this one a dazzling hue of sapphire blue.

Gingerly, Mica picked it up. Somehow, perhaps through her connection to _Shilivre_, she could almost feel Amethyst and Rozlyn within. Even frozen in an instant of time, it pulsated gently in her hand with a soothing and tranquil light.

Her father's hand came down lightly on her shoulder, and he dropped the first cube containing the four boys into her open palm alongside the second. The blue and red cubes pulsed by their proximity, glowing even brighter.

_"Mica…This is all I can do for you now."_

"I know, father." Mica whispered back. Fresh tears sprang to her eyes as he raised his arm and pointed past her face to the three niches embedded in the side of the craft.

"They…put the others in two of those compartments."

Dully, Mica approached the craft and fitted the cubes into the side of the spaceship. They fit snugly…built for the one specific purpose of harboring them.

Mica turned to her father, her mouth inexplicably dry as her vision clouded in waters. He looked back at her, his expression betraying sadness, loss, grief, determination, and sympathy all at once.

_"Seremichaela…this might…be the last time we ever see each other."_

She whimpered despite herself, running towards him. "Papa, don't say that…please don't say that…"

He pulled her close in an embrace that came close to squeezing the air out of her lungs, forcing down his own tears as he tried to push hers away.

"You must be strong, Mica." Hirocon said to her, resting his forehead down against hers. "For the others…you will be all they have left."

_"Where…where are you sending us?"_

"Many years before my time, Mica, there were Argonians who struck out into the vastness of space. I am sending you to a planet that had been found…a planet not unlike Argonia in form, but one whose people…humans, they call themselves now…are different from our own. The journey will last almost twenty of their years."

Numbly, Mica let it sink in.

"You cannot return here." Hirocon croaked. "None of you can…there will be nothing left by the time Zoda finishes."

_"What kind of a life can we have…without our planet, without our people? What kind of a life can I have as an orphan?!"_

"You will live." Hirocon said back, pleadingly. "In all that I am…in these last actions that I take as your father and the ruler of this land, that is all I can do." His eyes went blank for a moment, and he transmitted another thought.

_"Your mother was the strongest user of _Shilivre _on Argonia…and now you are the strongest, Mica. You have the strength needed for this…I am sending you on a journey, but it is one that you and the others will survive. You will not be alone. Be true to Ezilian, and to the bonds you two share…Trust in one another…and above all else, trust in the legends that your mother gave to you. Trust in the wisdom of Sellarus, your great ancestor, and you will prevail."_

Her grief running so full that her vision was nothing but a blur, Mica could not summon forth the presence of mind to respond to him in the same manner. Too many thoughts echoed in her mind…doubts, fears, especially about the full legend of the Starseer and Sellarus' additions.

Only the sound of further explosions and the grating noise of metal blast doors inside of the castle being torn apart snapped her away.

"There's no time." Hirocon finished wearily, grasping her by the shoulders. "You must…you must become the third."

Only his resolve gave Mica the strength to walk over to the platform upon which she would be broken apart, frozen, and stored into the final stasis cube. She pushed her hair away from her eyes, looking forlornly at her father as he stepped behind the controls of the device and pushed a button once again, the hum of the machinery whining up once again.

"Father…" She cried out to him one last time, pushing the tears aside and trying her hardest to create a memory of how he stood then at that moment.

His beard in full bloom, his fierce eyes looked defeated, and his ceremonial cape once so proudly kept behind his body now cloaked about his shoulders like a shroud, blood spatters and all.

_"Be strong…"_

And so she was frozen…captured in a scream of the moment, unable to do a thing as her father, the room, and Argonia faded from view in a slowly growing field of hazy white mist that exploded like starlight in front of her eyes…

And then everything was black silence and darkness…Nothing around but the echo of her own voice, and a solitude that became so disturbing after just seconds that she curled in upon herself.

The void became her companion…and so it would be, she knew…

For a long time to come.

* * *

_June 25__th__, 1990 A.C.E._

_4:53 P.M. Coralcola Island_

Mica blinked a few times, briefly aware of a sudden gust of wind from the west that brushed the palm trees aside and exposed the full light of the sun upon her. Despite the warmth of her environment, a cold chill was rising in her core.

"Enough." She murmured to herself, closing her eyes and tensing every muscle in her body. "_Enough._"

A few moments passed, time where a soothing presence in her mind came to the surface and forced everything else back down and away. No, she reiterated to herself, this was not Argonia. That had happened…twenty years ago. As fresh as it still was, even if she hadn't aged a day in those two decades, it was in the past. And the past, she argued silently, did not have to haunt her.

The cold faded away.

"Mica…Hey Mica, are you all right?" Amethyst asked, softly nudging her in the shoulder. Mica mumbled in annoyance for a moment, looking up to the girl just a year younger than herself. Amethyst was looking concerned, but that was what she did best; being the most empathic of the seven had both its drawbacks and its benefits.

"I'll be all right." Mica replied, making a motion to bring herself to her feet. "I just have to find a normal sleep schedule again."

"Those late nights will kill you, all right." Amethyst agreed with a smile. "But now's not the time for naps."

"Why not?" Mica asked, trying to become more alert.

"What, you forgot already?" Amethyst queried bemusedly. "The baseball game, Mica. We have to go get our field, as rough as Mike says it is, ready for after dinner."

Memories came back to the Argonian princess as Amethyst helped her to her feet. "Wasn't that Marlin's crazy idea?"

"Mostly." Amethyst agreed, leading them on towards the south end of the island, not too far from the helipad. "Though Ezilian was looking forward to it."

"Yes…he did seem interested in it." Mica said guardedly.

"Oh, he's just showing off." Amethyst said, blushing a bit. "You know that he's always been competitive."

"No, what he is is bullheaded." Mica countered. "Ezilian can't stand the thought that there might be someone out there who can beat him at anything."

"Ezilian was a bit of a Derdinal player back on Argonia." Amethyst waggled a finger. "From what I've seen, it's not that much different from this Earth game called baseball."

"He was good at Derdinal, I'll give him that." Mica agreed. "But I'm not so sure that will give him a winning advantage."

The two girls crested over the hill, at last able to look across and see the makeshift field being created. With Mike shouting out orders and carrying a measuring tape from square shaped bag to bag, the natives and the more responsible minded Argonians carrying out the construction, and Rozlyn chiding Giskard as he chased after a screaming Bakusian with a baseball bat, it was a sight to behold.

"This is gonna be fun, Mica." Amethyst laughed a bit.

Mica calmly let her eyes sweep over the island's lower jaw, spotting Ezilian standing at the cape with his arms crossed, looking down on the assembly with a collected glare.

"If anything…it will be interesting." Mica corrected.

She could see clearly enough that Ezilian's own line of sight was centered on Mike.

* * *

_6:45 P.M._

"_Coralcola Field"_

"PLAY BALL!" Mike shouted at the top of his lungs, pulling an old Red Sox baseball cap tighter around his head and stepping up to the heightened bump of land that had been designated as the pitcher's mound. Alongside the arena, standing or sitting cross-legged were the natives and Dr. Jones, already cheering them on and happily munching on the last of dinner's fish kebabs.

The players scattered; Marlin, Amethyst, and Bakusian scattered to the bases surrounding Mike, while Baboo opted, due to the shortage of players, to cover permanent outfield. The lack of gloves didn't seem to faze them at all, something that Mike found slightly disturbing, but unavoidable given the circumstances. At the plate marched Giskard, with Rozlyn and Ezilian and a young native whose name Mike had never caught sat in the makeshift dugout…really, just sitting in the grass behind home plate. Mica calmly checked the catcher's mitt she had borrowed from Mike, shifting her stance as she knelt down and narrowed her eyes. She, like all of the other girls, had changed into more suitable attire for demanding physical activity; Mica made a mental note that these 'blue jeans' were something she'd have to wear more often.

"Give 'em a heater, Mike!" Dr. Jones shouted from the bleachers. Mike smiled and shook his head, glancing behind him when somebody quietly tapped his shoulder.

Hapo Omoy rubbed at his curly head of hair for a moment. "So, my job as umpire is…"

"To make the calls. You have balls, strikes, foul balls, and…"

"Oh, yes." Hapo said suddenly, his eyes widening. "It's a good thing we had this talk earlier today then…I just needed to have my memory refreshed."

"Right." Mike said, inwardly sighing in relief. He didn't feel like repeating the hour long discourse again. "Well, go and get behind Mica there. You've gotta make the calls here on out…Ump."

"Ump?" Hapo asked, before realization set in. "Ohh…short for umpire."

He strolled off and stood behind Mica, then lifted a hand. "Are we all ready?"

Giskard took a few test swings with the bat, keeping his grumbling comments to himself for a change as he settled into a makeshift batters' stance and stared Mike down.

The young earth boy merely smiled and went into his windup.

"Now we're having fun."

His throw flew through the air, whistling straight and true and straight into Mica's mitt, slapping with the satisfying sound of leather against the stitched ball. Giskard had swung, but stood dumbfounded as he looked down at the bat, then to Mica's glove.

Hapo looked up at Mike and squinted an eye. "Is that a strike?"

Mike rolled his eyes, and it was Mica who spoke for him. "Giskard swung…and it was in the area called the 'strike zone'. So yes, Hapo, that's a strike."

"Strike one!" Hapo called out, the afterthought all too apparent.

Giskard shook his head and primed his stance again. "Lucky shot." He muttered. "I'd like to see you try that one by me again, Mike."

"You sure, Giskard? I can take it easy on you if you like." Mike chuckled. The grizzled youth seemed to crack a grin at that and shook his head.

"Crack that. Just throw the ball already and let's get this over with."

_Whiff. Slap._

"Strike two!"

Giskard slammed the head of the baseball bat against the sandfilled sack that served as home plate, and the natives cheered.

Mica threw the ball back to Mike and looked up at Giskard. "Your concentration isn't there, Giskard. You need to focus if you're going to hit the ball."

"Yeah, yeah, focus." Giskard groused. "You know as well as I do that was never my forte, Princess." Mica sighed at that and readied her stance again.

Giskard exhaled loudly, drawing in a slow breath before setting his stance one last time.

Mica's eyes flitted to Mike's, and they locked gazes for a moment. Her own stare seemed to be slightly miffed, and she turned her eyes up to Giskard before looking back at Mike and setting her glove in position.

Perhaps it was the lack of a smile on her face that disturbed Mike enough to reconsider his pitch. Mentally putting his curveball aside, he instead threw a straight shot at medium speed, and Giskard finally connected with a hit, driving it out to the left of Baboo and making a dash for first base. He stopped short of a run onwards as Baboo lobbed the throw to Marlin at second base, but looked exhilarated nonetheless.

"Heh, you almost had a strikeout that time, Mike!" Marlin complimented, throwing the ball towards his friend. Mike chuckled a bit as he caught it, shaking his head.

"Maybe next time." But he was pleased nonetheless that Mica's intent gaze had warmed up into a smile again. He'd obviously guessed her thoughts, and let Giskard nail a hit.

She wasn't such a bad catcher after all, Mike mused. He'd have to show her some of the signs sometime soon, in case they ever did this again.

The game continued on; Mike needed no stern wordless proddings from Mica to let Rozlyn score a grounder that somehow miraculously went between his legs before he could react to reach for it. That had put Giskard on third and Rozlyn on second. Next up came the youthful Coralcolan native, who stared down towards Mike stubbornly and grasped at the club with unsteady hands. Having to play no favorites for Mica's sake, Mike quickly racked up two balls in a row testing the boy's reflexes before he came to the conclusion that he wouldn't be fazed by balls outside of the strike zone. A curveball netted a shot that went foul just short of the first baseline, and a slider popped up high into the air and behind home plate before Mike could shout towards Mica to catch it, giving them strike two.

Mike adjusted his hat and twisted the baseball around in his right hand, squinting down his line of sight. "One shot, Mike…you got one shot before this guy nails another decent one."

He summoned up all his strength, and with one mighty hurl sent the baseball screaming towards home plate.

_Whiff. Thwap. _"I believe you are out, Eccinulu!!" Shouted Hapo in his jovial tone.

Cheers arose, and a slightly dazed Mica stood up and walked towards Mike as the native simply smiled and shrugged off his loss, handing the bat to Ezilian and strolling towards the bench.

Mica calmly dropped the ball into Mike's glove, glancing up at him. "What was that last one?" She muttered. "You almost knocked me off of my feet that time."

"That was my fastball." Mike explained. "And yeah, those things are made to come hard and fast. As the catcher, you can recommend shots to me."

"How? Shouting them out won't exactly work." Mica said. Mike narrowed one of his eyes into a squint for a moment, thinking.

"No, in baseball, catchers use hand signs. Just remember this one…if you want me to throw a fastball…" Mike quickly curled his right hand into a fist, then extended out his index finger.

A little slow to catch on, Mica repeated the motion two seconds later. "That's right." Mike said with a smile. "See, you're getting this game."

Mica glanced back towards home plate, where Ezilian was nonchalantly readying his stance. "Don't get too cocky, though. We had a game that was similar to this baseball on Argonia, and Ezilian used to be pretty good at it."

"Did he now?" Mike mused, glancing over to him for an instant. "What was he best at?"

"He played whatever position they needed filled, Mike…and he never failed them." Mica warned.

Mike slowly chewed on his lower lip. "Thanks for the tip."

"Just trying to save you some embarrassment, ace." Mica replied quickly, turning back around and running for home plate.

Ezilian didn't even blink as Mica went by him and crouched behind the base, holding her glove at the ready. "What were you two talking about, praytell?" He mused, not once looking down towards her.

Mica similarly refused to glance upwards at him, digging in her shoes into the ground a little harder to brace herself for Mike's next few throws. "Nothing you'd be too concerned about. After all, who's the ace Derdinal player here?"

Ezilian smirked at that and tightened his grip on the bat.

Mike looked over his shoulders to Giskard and Rozlyn for a long moment before pulling into his windup.

"Strike one!" Came the call, and Ezilian's jaw hardened a bit at his missed swing. Mike caught Mica's return throw, tensing up a bit more as the fun of the game suddenly grew very, very far away from him.

He threw again, and Ezilian smashed hard into it. The crowds gasped in wonder as it soared on along the third baseline, some turning towards home plate to where Hapo looked on with scrutinizing eyes towards its flight.

He shook his head and pointed at it. "Foul ball!" Came the cry, and Mike released a not so silent sigh of relief.

"Damn, he's actually good." He grumbled, intercepting Mica's throwback.

Ezilian chuckled a bit to himself, readying his next swing. "I think that one fazed him a bit." He said calmly.

"You know Ezilian, you might do well to focus on one kind of a game at a time."

"Do you say that for my benefit…or his?" Ezilian mused, his smile fading. Mica lowered her head back down and kept quiet.

Mike's next throw was one that Ezilian solidly drove beyond Baboo's range, and as the single outfielder scrambled for the ball, the crowd went wild as Giskard ran the gamut for a run, followed shortly thereafter by little Rozlyn whose dash tore up the grass. Finally, Baboo got a hold of the wayward sphere, hurling it back towards Mike. Ezilian had already rounded past second and was making a dash for third, but Mike made him think twice with a blistering salvo to Bakusian that forced Ezilian to begrudgingly turn around to avoid an out.

"The score is two to zero!" Hapo called out. "One out!"

Bakusian threw the ball back to Mike and smiled it off. "Hey, at least it wasn't a clean sweep."

Mike took a brief glance at Ezilian, edging out from the plate a few feet for his next dash. No, things could have been better.

With such limited teams, it was Giskard's turn at the plate once again. Mike focused a little harder, but Giskard nicked the corner of it and sent it flying up into the air. It was Amethyst back at second who almost absentmindedly caught the pop fly, giving Ezilian a stern glare as he touched his base before she could tag him out for his attempted steal.

"Two outs!"

Ezilian once more inched out from his plate as Rozlyn came back up for a second try, a movement that Mike picked up on very quickly.

"Hotshot." He grumbled a bit to himself. "What, he thinks he can steal himself another run?"

As he glanced down towards Rozlyn, an idea hit him. "Might…Heck, I'll try a crazy plan at least once." He glanced back in Ezilian's direction once, then started his windup. Sure enough, the crowds started cheering, and Mike carried through.

But at the end of his throw, he twisted his body about and lobbed his throw to Bakusian at third, the shot somehow keeping straight despite his skewed angle. Ezilian, who had indeed made a run for it, was caught completely off guard, skidding his run and turning about back for second.

"Bakusian, toss it to Amethyst!!" Mike shouted, dashing towards the space between second and third. Bakusian let out a chirp as he let the ball go with an overhanded throw that lacked speed, but made up for it in aim, landing easily in Amethyst's capable hands.

Ezilian steeled himself away again, reversing direction once more. "Now throw it back!" Mike shouted, breaking into a full run as he went for the baseline in front of Ezilian.

The ball came flying overhead like before…but as Ezilian charged on, paused, and switched for second, thinking to outrun the return throw, Mike became the sand in his cogs.

The ball's flight was halted by a leaping grab from Mike, who had only to take three sweeping leaps to catch up to Ezilian and tap him on the shoulder, ball in hand.

Ezilian froze, looking at Mike in disbelief as the earth boy smiled and plopped the ball back in his mitt.

"You're out." Mike said simply. Ezilian began to fume, stopping himself when Hapo shouted out the same call and called for the players to switch sides. Instead, he held his hand out expectantly for the ball, his fingers curling tightly around the rawhide surface when Mike released it.

"I guess it's my turn then, Jones." Ezilian said guardedly.

Mike nodded. "Guess it is, Ezilian." He turned and headed for home, readjusting his cap as he went.

It took little time to switch sides, but Hapo chose then to step out and speak a little louder.

"Now, just to remind everyone, because we have very few players, Mike has told me that this will be an…an…" He looked back towards Mike pleadingly, who smiled.

"Exhibition match, Mr. Omoy."

"An Exhibition Match!" Hapo picked up with full steam once more. "This means that instead of the usual nine innings allowed for play in a regular game, tonight's match is only one inning. With half of the match over with, Ezilian's team leads two to nothing."

"Great job out there, guys!" Dr. Jones hollered, whistling loudly. Bana, sitting beside the more boisterous archaeologist, simply smiled warmly.

Maybe Mike would have noticed the thrill of the game a little more, were he not so keenly focused on Ezilian's similarly stolid expression. Everyone else was having a wonderful time, though.

"I've got this one covered, Mike!" Marlin heckled, stepping up to the plate and looking back towards his mentor with a grin. Mike managed a smile and nodded, eager to see if his 'pupil' had managed to improve somewhat.

Marlin dug his shoe into the dirt, staring towards Ezilian with determined eyes. The elder Argonian went into his set, throwing the ball with an easy arc. Ezilian swung, and met air.

"Strike one!!" Hapo called out. Ezilian's mask cracked a little as he smiled self confidently, catching Mica's return throw. Mike did his best not to look stunned or nervous as his rival easily tossed two more strikes, sending a discouraged Marlin back to the dugout.

"You'll get him next time, Marlin!" Mica said encouragingly as he dragged the bat behind him. Marlin handed the bat to Amethyst and looked at Mike in shame.

"Sorry, boss. I guess I haven't improved any."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that." Mike countered, shaking his head. "Your batting stance is stable and allows for maximum kinetic impact on the ball. You were watching the pitcher very carefully, and that always helps…no, your one major flaw is that you seem to squint or blink just before you should connect." Mike lifted a finger. "Fix that and you're gonna start hitting 'em out of the park."

Amethyst was up next, and perhaps because Ezilian let his guard down, managed to easily score a single as it dug into the turf beyond his reach. Next up came Bakusian, who tried to swing at the ball twice with no success before trying a desperate bunt. Like Amethyst's own lucky swing, Bakusian's bunt was an unexpected tactic to Ezilian, leaving him with no outs and runners on first and second.

And then came Mike. He walked casually to the plate and picked up Bakusian's discarded bat, readying himself with a few swings, shutting out the encouraging cheers and whoops from the crowd gathered around the game. Mica looked up at him with her eyes, still holding her stance.

"Nervous?"

"Extremely." Mike said quickly, realizing too late he hadn't given a more confident answer. Mica smiled at his response, muffling a snicker.

"Don't worry, your secret's safe with me." Mica answered.

"And me." Hapo said in a conciliatory tone, leaning over her shoulder for a moment. The two teenagers quickly gave the island chief a glare that made him recoil back to his position and not say another word.

"Yes, Ezilian's good, but so are you. And don't ask me to tell you which one of you is better, because that's a value judgement I just can't make." The princess reached her free hand up and moved a bang away from her eyes. "So just relax and take it easy…this _is_ just a game, after all."

"Yeah." Mike shrugged, taking his stance. "I just hope he sees it that way."

Ezilian narrowed his eyes as he stared at Mike long and hard, going into his set once more and throwing a straight shot that whirled into Mica's glove before Mike's swing could connect.

"Strike one!" Hapo called out.

Mike bit his lip. His focus was really gone…Ezilian had him completely psyched out. He stepped away from the batter's box for a moment, shutting his eyes and trying to concentrate. Resigned, he lifted a hand up and lowered his bat. "Time." He called in a weak voice.

Mica got up and walked over to him, arching her eyebrows. "Something wrong, Mike?"

The athletic Jones ran a hand over his eyes, a dull ache beginning to throb in his head. "I…I just can't focus." He replied slowly. "It shouldn't be this hard, baseball's second nature to me…"

Mica blinked a few times, observing his distressed state, and the grimace on his face from a pain he refused to admit to.

"What does it feel like?"

"A headache that just came out of nowhere." Mike grumbled. Mica's eyes widened. "I don't ever remember one coming on this suddenly…"

"No. No, it shouldn't." Mica agreed, her voice stonily grave. She glanced towards Ezilian, leveling a glower that made his cheeks pale as he winced and turned away. "How about now?" She asked, looking back to Mike.

Mike opened his eyes and found the throbbing had already begun to subside. "It's better." He said.

Mica nodded. "Then let's get back to the game, all right?" Not waiting for his reply, she turned and wandered back behind home plate, taking up her position. Mike followed shortly thereafter, feeling a renewed sense of ease as he readied himself.

Ezilian examined the field one last time before hurling his shot. But unlike last time, his own abilities were as shaky as Mike's had been on the last pitch, and the Seattle native tore into it with ease, allowing him to reach first almost casually before the outfield could stop all movement with a frantically hurled throw to home that left the bases loaded.

Marlin stepped up to the plate once again, a determined look on his face. "All right Ezilian. This time, it's gonna be different!" He shouted loudly.

Ezilian's face had become a mask of barely hidden frustration. "We'll see, Dellin. We'll just see."

Strike one.

Ball one.

Ball two.

Strike two.

Ball three.

_CrrrrACK_.

"It's going!!" Dr. Jones cried out, leaping to his feet as Marlin's one miraculous hit soared high up into the air and over everybody's head, almost going to the edge of the island's southern Cliffside before rolling to a halt.

Stunned, Ezilian whirled back to where Marlin stood, holding the bat in his hands as if seeing it for the first time. A deadened lull fell over everyone for seconds as the batter and pitcher looked towards each other and then to the crowd.

Mike broke the silence with a grand holler and a cry of "GRAND SLAM!!", joined seconds later by a chorus of similar cheers and whistles. Marlin finally broke out into a grin as he began to run the bases, waving and pumping his fist simultaneously.

When he reached home, Mike picked him up by the shoulders and lifted him completely off of the ground, twirling him around. "Ya did it!" Mike cheered, exuberance pouring from his voice. "I knew you could, I knew you could!"

"I did what you said, Mike!" Marlin gushed back. "I didn't close my eyes, I kept my eyes focused on the ball!!"

Mike set Marlin down and ruffled his hair. "Told ya." He chuckled. Marlin blushed again a little bit, but said little else.

The Seattle native felt a light tap on his shoulder, and turned to find himself looking at Mica, smiling at him with her arms folded.

"You did a good job out there today, Michael." She remarked casually. "And thank you for showing us this game…we'll have to do it again sometime."

"Yeah, but a bigger game!" Marlin joked, prodding his friend in the ribs. "One where I can get us a bigger win than 4-2!"

Mike rolled his eyes even as he cracked a smile he couldn't help. "We'll see." He glanced over at Mica. "Hey, you wanna do something?"

"Like what?"

"I dunno." Mike shrugged.

Out of the corner of her eye, Mica could see a furious looking Ezilian marching towards them.

"Now might not be the best time." She replied, her smile fading. "If you'll excuse me, boys."

She turned and walked back towards the village, strolling at a leisurely pace that got her away from the crowds. Mike offered one puzzled glance in her direction before the villagers swarmed him with congratulations and further praise, pulling his attention from her completely.

Mica could feel him behind her. She could even hear him, thanks to his angry thudding footsteps. Despite herself, she tensed up at his approach.

"What was that back there?" Ezilian demanded, his voice almost cracking from the fury he tried to keep bottled.

"What was what?" Mica asked innocently, turning about to face him.

Ezilian snarled. "You blasting me with that dose of starbursts…That's a lousy trick, Mica. You made me lose the game."

"Oh, you mean how you were trying to make Mike lose the game by doing the same thing to him?" Mica countered hotly. Ezilian's comeback was stopped dead at her retort, giving her a chance to continue. "Honestly, I don't know what's going on between you two, but it has to stop. Using _Shilivre_ on Mike…Thinking you could get away with it simply because he has no clue of what it is?! Whatever happened to fair play, to the spirit of competition? That's what this baseball is about, Mike told us."

"I was just trying to put the mongrel in his place is all." Ezilian finally said back.

Mica shook her head, not sure whether she had heard him right. "…what…"

Ezilian took a step closer to her, a menacing air floating around him. "He thinks he is better than me."

"Well, if it's baseball then I think he's proven that he is today."

"So that's what you think then, is it?" He demanded. "You think Mike is better than me?" Mica realized that he was talking in a broader sense, trying to goad her.

"I didn't say that." She replied in a guarded tone. "Ezilian, I don't like your tone of voice at all. Besides, why are you so wound up? Get over it already, he's a good man. More than that, he saved us. He holds _Ellini_ in his grasp and power, and he defeated Zoda…a feat none of us, not even my father, rest his soul…could do." As she continued to speak, memories she had tried so desperately to work past rose to the surface and made her eyes begin to rim with tears.

"_Ellini_ is not his to wield." Ezilian barked. "I don't know how he got it, or if it is even the true _Ellini_…but whether it is the same weapon that the Starseer used countless years ago or simply a representation of it, I cannot stand to let a mongrel Earther like HIM possessing it."

"Shut up." Mica finally snapped back. "Just SHUT UP! You've always been so elitist, so superior to everyone else. Well, guess what?! We're not on Argonia anymore, Argonia probably doesn't even EXIST!! Here, you're not nobility and I'm not the heir to Sellarus' throne! We're just kids, damnit, just a pack of kids! So get it through your head this instant…that your superior attitude is going to have to go. Here, you're just another face, and if you can't deal with that fact, then I don't know why Mike ever bothered to pull you from your stasis cube!"

Ezilian rolled his eyes. "When I went free, we all did…without my cube, none of us would be free. Did you consider that?"

Mica felt the horrifying memories of the darkness of the green stasis cube rise up fresh in her once again, and the last of her mental resistance died.

"Perhaps you are willing to forget your place, and reach for a simpler lifestyle." Ezilian finished bitterly. "Never mind the fact such thoughts are traitorous to all we left behind, and traitorous especially to your father. No, I suppose then it's my job as your superior, both in age and reason, to remind you of your obligations. So you can forget it, Mica. I won't change for this dumpy little island, and I won't change for this entire world." He took another step closer to her, his breath blowing against her forehead. "_I will not let you change, Mica._ Not for that Earthling Jones or for anybody else."

Mica brushed the tears from her eyes and turned towards the village. "Leave me alone, Ezilian. Just…please…just leave me alone."

Ezilian watched her go, almost running towards her residence in the small village. Grimly, he shook a fist in her direction and shouted after her.

"You can't escape your destiny, Seremichaela! _You can't outrun your duty!!_"

Mica bolted completely out of earshot at that, leaving a frustrated Ezilian to pound his fist against a nearby coconut tree. He waited a few moments to compose himself, then walked towards the village as well.

In the shadows of a larger patch of trees, a confused Mike stared after the display, shaking his head.

Life on Coralcola was far from perfect anymore.

* * *

_June 25__th__, 1990 A.D._

_11:02 P.M. _

Mica hadn't remained at Bana's hut; not long after the game, the shaman had finished her nightly chants and settled into bed, fast asleep with her noiseless breathing in minutes.

She didn't remember how long it had taken her to get to the northern shore of the island, or even if she had ran or merely walked. Her mind was concentrated on very little of her surroundings, far too embedded in memories of long ago and far away.

It was all the more shocking then when she felt a gentle pair of hands drape a heavy length of material around her shoulders, and she jumped in surprise.

Michael Jones' reassuring chortle came from beside her as the human boy sat down beside her and smiled.

"Whatever happened to that excellent hearing of yours? I thought it was impossible for me to sneak up on you." He teased.

Mica's long and delicate ears twitched as she blushed at his comment, finally realizing he had put a long coat around her. She drew it tighter around herself to push away the slowly growing chill of the evening and shrugged. "I can only hear you if I'm listening, Michael."

"Mica, you don't have to use my full name." The Seattle native grimaced, rubbing at his unkempt brown hair. "Just call me Mike…everyone does."

"Hmph." Mica nodded, looking back out to the sea. "It's too early in the evening for you to be having another nightmare…So what are you doing here?"

"Looking out for a good friend." Mike replied easily. "You seemed out of it…and given the fact that we just had ourselves a rather marvelous exhibition match of baseball, I would think that you'd be thrilled."

"Ordinarily, I would be." Mica mused, glancing at him. "But if memory serves, you looked on today's affair with a fair amount of trepidation as well."

"Yeah, but in the end, everything worked out all right." Mike said with a laugh.

"Why? Because you won?"

"No, because everyone ended up having a good time." Mike countered. Mica closed her eyes and looked back out to the sea, and a perturbed Mike corrected himself. "Well…I suppose almost everyone did."

"I apologize." Mica said softly. "You shouldn't have to see this…And yet, here you are." She glanced at him, a twinge of irritation flaring for a moment. "Why must you always come here when I do, Mike? Why must you always pester me so?"

"You live in the nearest thing to paradise there is…And yet you're still so absorbed in your pain." Mike noted. He lifted a hand and waved it in a circle. "Look at this place! It's totally radical, there's never a sad moment! So why is it that you always have to switch back to a sour mood?"

Mica's face gained a pensive stare to it. "Because…because even though I try to forget, even though I do my best to escape the past, it always comes back to me." She shook her head. "I was the Princess of an entire planet…the heir to the legacy of Sellarus. In one horrific moment, all that was shattered and I became a refugee, trapped inside a cube for twenty years where I never aged, never slept, but was kept fully, maddeningly conscious."

"But you made it out…you're here now." Mike pointed out. "So what's keeping you from just being a kid again?"

"Obligations…and duties." Mica said bitterly. "Promises long kept, oaths sworn…Damn them."

"Eh?"

"You have no idea how much responsibility I bear, do you?" Mica mused. "I am the sole symbol of hope for my people."

"What, all six of them?" Mike snapped back. Mica recoiled in anger at his statement, picking herself up and throwing off his coat. "Wait!" Mike called after her, realizing too late just how hurtful his statement had truly been.

Her eyes were already filling with tears when he caught up to her and set a hand on her shoulder, stopping her escape.

"I'm sorry." He apologized. "I didn't mean…I didn't mean to say it like that."

"It still hurts." Mica replied. She reached a hand up to her eyes and brushed the tears away. "I know that we're the only seven left…Being reminded of that fact does little to improve my mood."

"So what are you talking about, with obligations and duties?" Mike pressed.

"I am supposed to keep myself strong willed for their sake."

"Besides that." Mike said shortly. Her eyes met with his, and he didn't break away. "I know there's more to what you're saying, Miss Argos."

Mica's eyes began to brim with tears again and she turned away from him.

"I…I should have been more honest with you a long time ago. But I didn't think we'd ever become such good friends. I wanted to deny myself that it might happen, and that it was happening…" She sniffled a bit, still not looking at him. "Mike, you are one of the strangest fellows I've ever been fortunate enough to meet. I have been keeping a lot bottled up inside, something that you've told me wasn't healthy. Somehow, I know I can trust you…perhaps more than I can trust anybody else here." She finally turned, her eyes red as she shook her head at him. "And…I was told once, that if two people were to truly understand one another…That they wouldn't keep secrets from each other."

Mike nodded slowly, absorbing her tearful statement. "I don't want secrets to keep us apart, Mica. You're too good of a friend for that." He cracked a smile. "Besides, who else am I supposed to talk to in the early hours of the morning?"

Mica laughed a little at that, causing Mike to feel a hint of satisfaction echo in him. "Something's kept me wondering though…You and Ezilian have been acting weird all day."

"That." Mike affirmed, shutting his eyes. "Well…" He mulled for a moment, considering his options, "…He and I don't exactly see eye to eye on a lot of things. But the biggest thing he hates about me is the time I spend with you." He opened his eyes back up and ran a hand through his hair. "But that's just silly of him, right? You're your own person, you can make your own decisions. Ezilian doesn't have any power over you, and yet he acts like he owns you or something."

Mica grew silent at that, and Mike's impish grin faded again. "…He doesn't…does he?"

"In a way, Mike…he does." Mica answered back hollowly. Sympathy almost radiated from her, and she sniffled. "No secrets, Mike. So I won't keep this one from you."

Mike's throat went dry, a sense of dread starting at his feet and running up to his shoulders, ending in a shiver that died before it started. A hundred thoughts ran through his head, each more horrible than the last about what she was getting at…what exactly her secret was.

"A long time ago, since the day I had been born, my parents had followed the customs of our people. One such custom had been one largely ignored until recent times…concerning the lineage of the royal family." Mica began unsteadily, but pressing on with a further and more determined air at every syllable. "In a sense, Ezilian Ranuforte does own me…"

_Don't say it,_ Mike thought feverishly, stunned at the thought until he realized why he had thought it. All this time…He felt like slapping himself, because now he knew why her sadness frustrated him to no end, why when he was around her, things seemed to slow down to a pace that just seemed right.

And now, as his heart sank, he recognized that realization had come too late…years late, for that aspect of her life he had subconsciously hoped to fill…

"I am betrothed to Ezilian." Mica finished quietly. "Upon the day of maturation…he is to become my husband, and the new king of Argonia."

Mike shook his head back and forth, refusing to accept it. "But…you said that your planet…was…"

"Where there are Argonians…there is Argonia." Mica interrupted him, her voice beginning to break down. She shook her head again, seeming to grow heavier as she did. "Duty…obligation…As much as I try to escape it, he keeps it alive, they keep it alive!!" Her head swung back and forth at a new and feverish tempo, and choking sobs came forth. "I don't want it, Mike, I don't _want it anymore!!_"

Mike felt something else slam into his head outside of her piercing cries then as well, a sudden stab of a sensation that made him shiver…and a moment later, comprehend the feeling as intense and overwhelming grief that tried to flood out everything else.

His experience with Zoda…was a darker version of what had just happened to him then. But at a base level, it was the same…the grief was Mica's, he sensed that much. Head swimming with the pain that Seremichaela Argos had thrown upon him, along with his own doubts and frustrations, Mike could say nothing.

Instead, he simply took two steps towards her and held her close, silently comforting her as her body shook with sobs and hidden tensions that had finally come to bear.

Her knees gave out and she began to collapse to the ground, so he fell with her, guiding her fall until they leaned against one another…

Eventually, her cries faded into the night and ended. And in time, Mike got her back to her hut before taking a long, sobering, and depressing trip back to his own space in his Uncle's laboratory. He looked up, running a hand through his hair again, no longer sure what to feel or how to act. He noticed something in the stars, though, that seemed to sympathize with Mica's feelings. They glistened brighter that night…

As if they too, were crying.


	4. Whispering Waves

_**STARTROPICS: FOLLOW THE SOUTHERN CROSS**_

By Eric 'Erico' Lawson

**CHAPTER THREE: WHISPERING WAVES**

"_Michael D. Jones…aah, yes, I remember him. An adolescent by now, and I've heard through the rumor mill he's making quite a name for himself as a confident baseball player in high school. But he wasn't always like that, no. When he was younger, he was what my profession would call 'overly sensitive'…He had quite a time maintaining a regular sleep schedule, and it frustrated his parents to no end. But what can you do…when a boy is plagued by ceaseless nightmares?"_

_-Dr. Samantha Cole, psychiatrist, Seattle Wellness Institute_

* * *

He was there again. The same dark corridors as before, with the same warning sirens blaring. The stench of foreign metal and his sweat and the acrid ozone from overloading systems made the air almost impossible to breathe, and it was only by sheer force of will that he was able to overcome his instincts and manage gasping breaths of the oxygen poor mixture.

Yet more of the fast crawling piles of tentacled maggots came scurrying towards him, down the wide steps lit by the dim emergency lighting. Fighting back the rising panic within him, he whipped out his Super Nova and crushed the screeching demons into lifeless mush.

_Not again…not again…_A part of him cried, briefly aware that something was drastically wrong with this. Yet he forged on, the sirens driving him towards destiny.

The door shut behind him, and a dark laugh echoed through the dark chamber. His blood froze cold in his veins as he turned towards the sound of laughter, recognizing it instantly as the chortle of a creature he thought he had destroyed…of a being, a monster, who had assaulted his very mind only a few passageways ago. He felt his muscles freeze up when the laughter turned into a bestial scream, almost a howl. He readied his Super Nova again, staring into the darkness to his right. He could see nothing and heard only the sound of wet and plodding footsteps. Footsteps separated by moments of silence met by crashing weight landing home on metal tiling.

_**"You will regret your foolhardiness, **__boy_.

A flash of something that didn't belong in the darkness caught his eye, and a massive trunk of a leg emerged into the dim lighting.

The rest came into focus as his eyes adjusted, and his terror reached new levels. A malignant being, with short and stumplike legs, powerful clawed arms, and a massive mouth lined with fangs that stretched to eternity and back was looking back at him, laughing in a strange warble.

_**"Nobody can defeat ZODA!!"**_ The alien monstrosity bellowed, lunging towards the boy with fangs snarling. The boy screamed and backpedaled away, and the alien reared his head back. _**"Especially not you…Mike Jones of Earth!"**_

Mike threw his Super Nova with a force he didn't think his arms capable of…yet it did nothing but bounce off of the thick hide of the beast called Zoda…no, Nightmare Zoda…

Then came the screams and the pain…Zoda plucked him from his alcove with the ease one might remove a gnat, dragging a claw across his chest and leaving a long gash. Unable to fight back any more, Mike lay limp and helpless as the shock set in.

And then came the voice. Not the one his ears heard, but the one that spoke to his mind, skipping all translations and leaving nothing but raw thought and emotion.

_**You were a fool to think you could destroy me….Too late will your realization come of how futile your efforts truly were!**_

Zoda jerked his jaw forward, ripping into Mike's pitching arm, and the boy wailed as he felt a warm sensation dribbling down his arm. The sirens of the self-destructing spaceship blared in the background, noticed but barely heard.

_**You could not save them, Mike, you never really could to begin with…No, you are just a simple child who came for a vacation. Now your rambunctious spirit has brought you here to me…to pain and anguish. Perhaps now you wish that you were still back fishing…or even back in Seattle, where there would be no excitement, but you wouldn't have ended up here.**_

Zoda seemed to smirk as Mike gasped for air, squeezing his hand tighter around the boy's throat. Slowly, Zoda walked him over to the edge of the large platform, dangling the earthling over the chasm between ground and raised metallic pillar. Easily, Zoda reached a clawed hand about Mike's waist, pulling from Mike's pocket the two magic cubes he had stolen from the spaceship. Despite his struggling, Mike could not free himself. And still, Zoda's voice, the one that spoke into his mind itself, continued on in its dark tone.

_**Now then, we shall put an end to your little rescue attempt…And say hello to oblivion for me, terrestrial. It's been waiting for you to take my place.**_

Therein was the true darkness of Zoda; Mike trembled not at the scratch in his voice, nor the claws that punctured his throat and gushed his vital fluids down his gullet, silencing whatever final screams he might have offered.

It was the calm nature with which he committed his barbaric acts, the same indifference that even now, made the invader view Jones not as an enemy, but a nuisance to be swept away.

Zoda did not refuse him his fears; the towering beast of a monster released his grasp and wetly removed his bloodied fingertips from the boy's throat, even as bright red liquid bubbled up and frothed in Mike's mouth.

Mike felt himself fall down into the crevasse of the spaceship, falling down and down to the lowest levels below…

As he reached terminal velocity, the barely conscious teenager realized he could no longer scream. Even if he could have, nobody could hear him.

The darkness of the spaceship enfolded him as he plummeted into its maw, and the last thing he heard was a final defiant warble of the emergency klaxons echoing above.

* * *

_June 26__th__, 1990 A.D._

_4:27 A.M._

Mike snapped up from his bed, a hand at his throat as a terrified squeak came out. He realized he was hyperventilating, and he also realized that he had once again had the same nightmare that had come every night for far too long. But even in knowing that, he still could not shake off the terror, nor stop the trembling that even now made the bed almost rattle from his vibrations.

Slowly, he ran a hand along the length of his throat, feeling for any sign of a wound. Of course, it was as unharmed as it had always been, he tried to remind himself. But despite the reality that dreams could not harm a person, the reality he felt left him sensing the screaming wounds where Zoda's claws had pierced through into his esophagus. It made it all the more difficult to breathe, but more than that was the invaded feeling that wouldn't leave him.

"Dreams." Mike whispered, keeping his eyes open as he drew in another ragged breath. "Just dreams." He looked around his room, trying to convince himself that the events aboard Zoda's spaceship had been weeks ago. No, the Argonians were safe…Zoda was dead. And he had not been dropped to his death after having his throat ripped out.

_"DARNIT!!."_ Mike cursed, slamming a balled fist against the headboard of his bed. He pushed the covers off of himself, realizing that once again there would be no falling back to sleep. Not tonight. Not any night.

Not since four days after he had finished his Trial of the Southern Cross.

Fear gave way to anger and frustration, as it often did. He pulled off the shirt from the day before and glared at the mirror in his room before turning on the shower spigot and jumping into the full blast stream of tepid water that woke up his body. He just stood there, facing the needles that stung his scalp and shoulders, letting the water wash over him without thinking of shampoo or soap.

No, the dulling sensation of having his skin blasted off of him was far more therapeutic right now.

"Why…" He murmured to himself, a question inaudible over the roar of the showerhead. He said why to question many things.

Why he had that particular nightmare over and over.

Why this vacation had gone so horribly awry.

Why his Uncle had invited him here in the first place…

Why there had to be stupid rules for Argonian royalty and how they conducted themselves.

And why…most importantly…

Why he'd never realized his feelings sooner.

"Damnit." He swore fiercely, not caring how crude the word sounded. He was angry and terrified and confused all at the same time, and he didn't know how to resolve any of those emotions. He reached a hand up and turned the water spigot off again, stepping out of the shower and going over to the sink. Not bothering to dry off, he simply stared at himself in the mirror, his normally ruffled brown hair dripping down over his eyes.

"Hero." He muttered. He shook his head again and thought of another title. "Starseer." He shut his eyes. "_Kyrchai_…_Schraklik…_"

He opened them up and put a hand to the mirror. "Mike."

Mike reached for a towel and began to dry off. "Am I any of those…none of them…??"

Five minutes later, he emerged from his room again in a fresh set of clothes that was the same white t-shirt and blue jeans he always seemed to wear. His hair was still a little unkempt, but it would be some time before it became truly aggravating to work with. Acceptable in his judgement.

Meandering towards the kitchen, he was surprised to find the light already on, and his uncle at the table calmly drinking a cup of coffee and fiddling with a bowl of dry cereal.

"Uncle Steve?" Mike asked in a surprised voice, stepping into the light. Dr. Jones looked up, recognizing his presence for the first time with a surprised look.

"Mike, what are you doing up this early?"

"Couldn't sleep." Mike offered simply, going over to the faucet and running himself a glass of water. "But what about you?"

"Aah, today is the day when I begin my trip." Dr. Jones replied, taking a long draw from his java. "Or have you forgotten that's why I've stockpiled Sub-C so heavily??"

"Yeah." Mike remembered, shaking his head. "Sorry, I'm not thinking too clearly right now."

"Hmm." His Uncle mused, looking up to the clock. "Is that because of the time…or last night?"

Mike said nothing, and his relative harrumphed with a small smirk. "Thought as much."

"Uncle Steve, I have to know something…"

"What's that, my dear nephew?"

"Why did…why did you bring me here?" Mike asked, a stony expression on his face.

"What, to Coralcola?"

"Yes." Mike confirmed harshly. "Ever since I got back…ever since I saved the Argonians, I've had plenty of doubts. And maybe I've tried to ignore them for too long, but…why invite me? Did you know that any of this was going to happen, Uncle? All of this…this bogus quest?!"

Dr. Jones stared blankly back at him, and Mike continued to fume off his frustration. "I thought you were doing this out of the goodness of your heart…but now I'm wondering if you didn't have another reason. Was this the dream vacation I thought it'd be, or were you just using me all along?"

"You're troubled." Dr. Jones surmised.

"Wonderfully obvious guess there." Mike snapped tersely.

"Well, then I won't mince words. Mike, I didn't intend to make you the savior of an alien race, if that's what you're implying. I didn't mean to put you through a bizarre journey to rescue me from the clutches of Zoda. It just happened. Did I intend to show you the ruins? Yes. Your father always said there was a part of you beyond sports, a curiosity that motivated you to do strange things. But that was it." He finished the last of his coffee and began to dive into his cereal. "So there. There's your answer. It doesn't exactly help you to vent…and it doesn't aid your troubled mind any. But that is the truth of it."

The boy pursed his lips for a moment, then sighed and walked over to the table to sit across from his Uncle.

"Are you going to be all right?" Dr. Jones asked, a concerned tone finally occupying his voice.

"I'll live." Mike answered hollowly. "I just gotta keep moving, that's all." His Uncle stroked at his chin for a long moment before speaking again.

"Say, Mike…How would you feel about tagging along with me on this trip?"

"Pardon?" Mike blinked, looking up. "Tagging along?"

"You know I'm going back to the ruins…well, I might need your help. It's a difficult trip to make alone, and Baboo isn't exactly feeling like himself lately." Dr. Jones reset his glasses. "Besides…it'll get you away from Coralcola for a while. What do you say?"

Mike looked down at the table for a moment, his eyes blinking at their own pace as he thought long and hard.

"Well?" His Uncle prodded again.

"I…I don't know." Mike said, his response an honest one. "I'm…yes, things aren't the greatest right now, but…" He looked up. "I…have to go do something. How soon are you leaving?"

"Within the hour." Dr. Jones answered. "But what do you have to do?"

"I…" Mike began, pausing midsentence as he shook his head. "I guess I just have to find something out first."

"I see." Dr. Jones murmured. "Well then, I leave the choice with you. If you still want to come with me to the ruins at Howduyadocola, I'll have Sub-C parked at the exterior laboratory dock. If you're not back by ten minutes after five, I'll assume that you've decided to stay."

Dr. Jones got up and walked past Mike, patting his shoulder consolingly. "I have to run the final checklist with Nav-Com. I've left you a thermos by the coffeepot, so help yourself."

"Uncle Steve?" Mike said with a start as his Uncle reached the kitchen's exit. The archaeologist turned and looked back to his nephew with a calm stare.

"Yes, Mike?"

"…thank you." Mike spoke softly. "For telling me the truth."

"You're welcome." Dr. Jones replied, smiling a bit. "And just remember; we adults aren't always the enemy. I'm here to help you, no matter how bad things seem."

He turned and walked out of the room, leaving Mike to stare over towards his thermos of coffee and the warm, revitalizing liquid beside it.

He shut his eyes for a moment, praying for a bit that his memories of last night, were in some part flawed. Or if they weren't…

That there was still time left to act.

"Some days I wish I'd stayed in Seattle." He groused, walking over and pouring his usual wakeup drink inside of the thermos.

A part of him hoped that within contained the secret to meaningful conversation…

Because he could use all the help he could get.

* * *

_Coralcola's North Shore_

_Three Minutes Later_

Mike had ran all the way from the laboratory to the stretch of shoreline that he and Mica had found themselves returning to time and time again. He arrived with his thermos in hand, chest rising and falling as he tried to recover his breath.

The waves gently washed up on shore, carrying a lulling sense of calm along with them. Mike paid little attention to the scenery, however; he was too intent on speaking his peace.

"Mica…Come on, Mica." He whispered quietly, staring along the shoreline and towards the driftwood he'd sat on the morning before. Crestfallen, he noticed that she was nowhere in sight. A burning pebble of optimism refused to die in him, and he sat down on the driftwood. He waited a few moments before unscrewing the Thermos' lid and pouring himself a capful of his Uncle's brewed java.

Taking in a deep drink, his frantic mind began to slow down with caffeine's' reintroduction to his system. The cool of the night still hung over him, and the warm coffee made steam rise in tendrils around his face. A placid state of mind began to envelop him, and with it came the dilution of time.

He was thus left unaware when a warm hand suddenly came to rest on his shoulder, and reacted with a start. "Mica?" He heard himself ask in an unsure, but hopeful voice. He turned around, a glimmer of want in his face.

It died a fraction of a moment later, and he turned back towards the sea.

"Sorry, Mike. I suppose I'm not who you were expecting to see." Amethyst said gently, walking around and sitting beside him.

"I'm that obvious, huh?"

"When you mention Princess Mica's name in that tone of voice, yes." Amethyst said, a bit of mirth rising to the surface. "But why are you up so early?"

Mike didn't say anything, and Amethyst let out a muffled grunt. "All secrets, aren't you. This is a side of you I haven't seen before, Mr. Jones."

"Really?" Mike said, feigning interest as he took another sip from his thermos. "Why, I'm just full of surprises."

"So, you were waiting here for Mica."

"Yeah."

"You two meet here often?" Amethyst probed.

"Can I lie to you?"

"Not easily, no." She shot back with no delay.

Mike turned his head to look at her, no emotion in his eyes. "Head games must be a thing you Argonians all share." Amethyst blinked in surprise for a moment, but Mike didn't give her a chance for a comeback. "Well, if you can read my mind…then you know the answer to your question, don't you?"

Amethyst blinked a few more times, then slowly nodded in agreement.

Mike tilted his head back to the sea. "So that was that."

"You know…you know it can't happen." Amethyst said. "You and her?"

"Yeah. I know." Mike mumbled. "She's promised to Ezilian. She told me."

"Last night? After the game?"

"Yes."

"That must have caught you by surprise." Amethyst murmured. "To us…we always knew. But to you and the others here?"

"I don't think most people here would care."

"But you seem to." She noted grimly. "Mike?"

"Yes?" The boy replied, looking over to her.

"Don't delude yourself." Amethyst said with a shake of her hair. The stunned look on Mike's face pressed her onwards. "Whatever you think can happen between you and Mica…look, it can't."

Mike played dumb, and Amethyst frowned. "I'm being serious, Mike. Look at it. She's a Princess, and she's promised to Ezilian. You don't think I haven't noticed how you look at her some days? Heck, even right now…you being here, and expecting her at this hour in the morning? No, you two have been doing this for some time. I'm telling you now to stop it."

"How can you…"

"Mica doesn't care for you." Amethyst continued, now unable to stop herself. "And what you have…that's infatuation, nothing more, nothing less. Let go of it."

"Blast it, why are you saying this?!" Mike barked angrily.

"Because it's the TRUTH!" Amethyst shouted back at him. "So stop living in a dream and get back to the real world! Mica's told me herself that things would be simpler if you would just leave!"

The rest of Amethyst's words had only angered Mike. Her last sentence was the one thing that dealt a hammerblow to him.

His mouth opened and closed a few times before he could finally speak. "What…"

Amethyst's eyes did not waver in the slightest. "You complicate everything in her life, Mike. You complicate all our lives. I'm asking you…Leave. You saved us, and we're grateful for that, but…" Amethyst's voice trailed off, and she looked away.

Mike closed his eyes for a moment, not quite sure what to think. Frustration took over again, and he clenched a fist up.

"You know, I had it easy too, before I came here." Mike muttered. "Maybe I should have never bothered to save you all in the first place." Amethyst looked up, a shocked expression evident. Mike blinked back the first of his hot tears, picking himself up and screwing his thermos shut. "That would have made all our lives easier, now wouldn't it?"

His body rigid and his mind blurred by red, Mike stormed off towards the laboratory, leaving the beachline behind him.

Amethyst watched him leave, then quietly stood up and readjusted her dress and shawl. Slowly, she wandered away from the driftwood bench and back towards the island.

In the trees, another figure calmly waited with hawklike eyes at her approach. Amethyst paused at the treeline, waiting as he emerged and walked over to her, resting his powerful arms on her shoulders and rubbing them.

"Well?"

"He bought it." Amethyst said simply. She looked down in shame for a moment, then up into his eyes. "Are…are we doing the right thing here? I mean, maybe they really do…"

The man shushed her with a finger to her lips, then kissed her forehead. Amethyst smiled a bit and fell easily into his embrace, her fears assuaged by his simple actions.

"We are doing what we must." He said, rocking her in his tender grasp. "Putting a stop to mindless dreaming before it can tear us apart."

He smiled a bit, a perfect row of teeth glinting in the moonlight. "And besides, we can't allow each other…to forget our obligations."

* * *

Dr. Jones leaned his head into the hatch of Sub-C, silently double checking the full stacks of supplies and Nav-Com at the helm. The stocky robot pilot swiveled his head completely around to look up at the archaeologist, the same emotionless glaze over his frozen face.

"Yes, Doctor Jones?"

"How much longer until we are ready to depart?"

Nav-Com swiveled his head back to the front of the cockpit and out of the thick plexiglass windowshield that made up the frontal viewing port. "All supplies for a two week expedition are loaded and notarized. I am also confirming full battery power in Sub-C, with backup diesel regenerators last tuned up a week and a half ago. Weather forecasts indicate calm seas for another month, and…"

"I get the picture. But how long until launch?" Dr. Jones interrupted.

Nav-Com's head clicked a few times as he made the necessary calculations. "We may leave immediately. Shall I begin undocking procedures?"

Dr. Jones pulled his head out of Sub-C's sizable quarters, then looked back towards the shore.

He wasn't surprised to see his nephew there, but he was surprised at the condition he was in. Sweating, breathing heavily, and with a frustrated and angry look on his face. At least he'd had the sense to bring a luggage bag of his clothes with him.

"Good morning, Mike." Dr. Jones said simply.

"I'm coming with." Mike barked bitterly. "I…I need to get off of this island for a while."

Dr. Jones nodded, his eyes cautiously sizing Mike up from behind his spectacles. "All right then, climb aboard."

Dr. Jones ventured down into Sub-C's cockpit, wincing a bit as Mike's luggage bag collapsed heavily against the metal floor. The boy himself edged his body halfway down the hatch, standing on the ladder for support.

"You coming down, Mike?" Dr. Jones asked.

"In a bit. Go ahead and start us up." Mike replied quickly. Dr. Jones pursed his lips for a moment, but nodded his head and looked to Nav-Com.

"Well, then. Nav-Com, begin undocking procedures and set sail for Howduyadocola."

"Confirmed." Nav-Com droned, not bothering to reach for the steering wheel as Sub-C's electric motors whirred to life.

Outside in the laboratory's exterior dock, the magnetic docking clamps disengaged from Sub-C's hull with a pair of muffled thuds. Mike was jarred a bit as he leaned against the hatchway, but kept his balance. Slowly, he turned his head towards Coralcola Village, towards the hut of Bana Omoy…and Mica.

"I'll leave then." Mike whispered. "I'll just leave, and that'll be the best thing for the both of us then, won't it?"

He stared a few seconds longer before he forced himself to turn his head east, towards the full ocean horizon and the still sleeping sunrise.

It took everything he had not to look back again.

* * *

_8:45 A.M._

For a change, Mica hadn't had nightmares shatter her to wakefulness, and so she had slept a good long while. Of course, upon waking up, she remembered what had happened the night before.

That had been bad enough. She remembered it all. The baseball game, where Mike and Ezilian had clashed egos, and in the case of Ezilian, minds. Perhaps Mica had starbursted him harder than necessary, but Ezilian had deserved it nonetheless for attacking Mike with a power the boy didn't understand.

And then…

_I told him…I told him, and Sellarus forgive me, but I thoughtwailed as well._

She pulled herself up into a sitting position on her cot, running a hand through her hair. Her nightgown hung loosely around her frame, no chill sweat present this morning to make her feel sticky. _Shilivre…_

The force that they all commanded, that some Argonians, with training, could tap into. Only in the nobility were those powers ever dutifully trained, and only in the Royal Line…her line…

Was it instinctive. Yet all along, they had been trained that _Shilivre_ was never to be used in open aggression.

Ezilian had, and Mica had struck him down for it.

"But…why…" She murmured, pulling a hand half-clasped up to her chest. Eyes empty but open, she looked down at the end of her bed.

She had been betrothed to Ezilian.

_I am his. I've known that since I was five…_

She'd never really approved of it. Ezilian had been a cruel boy in their youth, what her parents had called "Overly boisterous."

_Boisterous, my foot._ It had still been reality, the one thing in her life that was always set, that came closer and closer every birthday. Her mother had noticed. Of course she would.

"Mom…" Mica whispered, opening up her mind and searching the heavens, desperately hoping she would find the soothing presence of Tanelia Argos.

Disheartened, she closed her sight a minute later, shaking her head.

_But mom…you knew. You knew I didn't like Ezilian, how I hated our arranged marriage._

Nothing could have changed that, though. It was for Argonia, as her father would say.

Mica got up and went into the hut on the side of Bana Omoy's residence, closing the door firmly before removing her nightgown and stretching out. The town watchman had already replaced the tub of water that served as the shaman's…and now her…bathtub, and resisting the urge to shiver at the cool water, she slid into it, freezing with her arms at the sides as she grew accustomed to the temperature.

She stared up at the ceiling in those long moments, breathing steady and heart confused.

Things had been quiet for seven years on Argonia…before Zoda struck. She remembered the incident when she had been nine quite well, but it was one irrelevant to her train of thought…or so she hoped…

_And then we were sent here._

She had spoken to Mike of the desperate gripping feeling of loneliness that had claimed her, sealed in the cube. She had built up a resistance to everything, a wall nobody could get through…

And then she met him. The boy…no, _man_, who had saved them all.

The native Earthling who wielded, as well as any one of her fellow Argonians could tell, the legendary _Ellini_, the weapon of the Starseer.

The boy who was called Michael Jones.

He was unlike anyone she had ever met…aside from sharing a near kindred bond with Marlin, he was blindly optimistic, and his smile had been bright enough to make ice crack from the warmth of it.

_And he cared, didn't he? When everyone else assumed that being awakened from the cubes meant adjusting to a new world, mourning those lost, but still living…he knew you still carried pain, didn't he Mica?_

He'd broken through that barrier. He'd given her an outlet to finally vent. And he did care.

More than he knew he was allowed to…until last night.

_And even then…even then, all he did was comfort me._

She felt warmer as she continued to think, stretching a perfect ivory leg up and over the rim of the tub.

To Ezilian, nothing mattered but duty, possession, and control.

Mike was none of those things. To Mike, happiness…contentment…those were the things that counted. And she wasn't blind, either. She could see the look in his eyes that showed up every time they were alone together.

Michael D. Jones, the boy from Earth, their rescuer…

Was more than smitten with her.

And more and more, Mica's greatest fear…

She shut her eyes and dunked her head completely under the water. Best to submerge those thoughts, because they led down a path a part of her did not want to venture.

And still, she felt warmer.

* * *

Coralcola Village was already bustling with life by the time Mica dressed herself, foregoing her favorite dress for the more comfortable blue jeans from the baseball game and a lavender blouse that she had been given as a present by the natives. As the cool morning gave way to the heat of the coming day, she decided that the thin fabric; what was it again, satin?...would feel far better than her red sundress.

The eating lounge was already starting to fill up by the time that she arrived, and she approached it with some hesitation. Inevitably, the growling hunger in her stomach won over her fears, and she had gone.

Still, she did not look forward to dealing with Mike. He would have questions, concerns, would either hound her to death or completely ignore her.

She looked around the tables, blinking to gauge her bearings and calculate what she was seeing.

Many Coralcolans. All the other Argonians.

But no Mike. She frowned; it wasn't like him to miss out on breakfast, he was as much a morning person as she was. Then again, today hadn't been typical for her, and it was likely it was the same for him.

Ezilian waved her over, smiling as he picked up another piece of breadfruit. "Good morning to you, Princess. I hope you slept well."

"Better than usual." Mica had to agree. "Longer, at least." Brushing a hand through her hair, she sat down next to Ezilian and little Rozlyn, who made it a point to jump up from her spot beside her big sister Amethyst and run over to the elder girl. "And good morning to you, Rozlyn." Mica said, regaining a smile as she rubbed the little girl's hair.

"That game was fun last night!" Rozlyn chirped excitedly. "When are we gonna play 'aseball again?"

From the next table over, perched between Bakusian and Giskard, Marlin whistled to get Rozlyn's attention. "Man Roz, you are asking the wrong kid for that. Only Mike could tell ya…speaking of which, where is Mike?"

Mica, puzzled as much as Marlin was, did not notice how Ezilian's smile curled at the edges, or how Amethyst lowered her head so far that nobody could read the expression on her face. Her eyes scanned around the lodge for a long moment, still seeing no sign of Mike.

"I couldn't tell you…I haven't seen him since la…well, since the baseball game." Mica said, correcting herself midsentence. "I would have thought you'd know, Marlin…he's closest to you."

Marlin shrugged. "Well, we'll just have to go pay him a visit later."

Ezilian put his breadfruit down, thoughtfully rubbing at his chin before looking over at Hapo Omoy, who looked around the village hut with a doleful expression while munching on a vegetable root under the watchful eye of his sister. "Say, Chief Omoy, wasn't Dr. Jones leaving on his expedition for somewhere or other this morning?"

Hapo looked over. "Come to think of it…I think he did mention something about those ancient ruins he found by Howduyadocola again. He complained to me just yesterday about having to refit Sub-C after Mike and Mica went fishing in it…Yes, that has to be it. Dr. Jones is gone."

Giskard lifted an eyebrow, peering up from his breadfruit. "What are you getting at, Ezilian?"

The elder boy shrugged. "I just had a thought…that maybe Mike would have gone with him."

Mica whipped her head about sharply. "Now why would he do that?"

Ezilian glanced at Mica with another shrug, but a calm look in his eyes. "I can't read minds, Mica." The Argonian children all glanced thoughtfully at one another, and then to Mica, whose face began to blush slightly. "It just seems rational to me. Ever since we've arrived, Mike's been an early riser, and he's not one to miss breakfast. Still, it's a thought." He rubbed his hands together to get the last of the crumbs off of him, standing up. "I'm about done…I've got to make my bed yet, so how about we all just take a walk over to the laboratory in ten minutes and see if Mike's still with us?"

"Sounds like fun to me!" Bakusian interjected, lifting his glass. "You know, I've yet to see that laboratory. Giskard got to help Dr. Jones drag that equipment of his back yesterday, and I've felt kind of left out."

The other children all were in agreement, if only that it would break the pattern of boredom in their lives. Mica had felt the implications behind Ezilian's jab; doubtless the others had caught it too. All the children were well aware of Mica's mastery of _Shilivre_, the power of Sellarus' lineage. Even as she sat there, furiously gnawing away at breakfast, the heat in her face refused to dissipate.

_Why…why would he leave, no, Ezilian has to be lying, he just has to be…_

_I mean, I laid a lot on him last night, but Mike's stronger than that…_

_Strong enough…_

_He…_

_Wouldn't leave…_

The other children eventually wrapped up and began to stroll off to meet up with Ezilian. Mica took her time, contemplating whether or not Ezilian was off of his nut.

Bana, the island Shaman, purposefully moved over and sat next to Mica. "You're troubled by Ezilian's comments."

"Yes." Mica said simply.

"As well you should be…There's a bit of the jackal in him."

"The jackal?"

"Watch with open eyes, Mica." Bana said gravely, looking towards her young charge. "Rough waters are coming."

"Do you ever not speak in riddles?" Mica muttered quietly, shaking her head and standing up to leave. "Things are complicated enough right now, I don't need puzzles on top of everything else." She offered an apologetic glance to Bana, then walked off close on the heels of the other Argonians.

Bana blinked softly a few times, then flexed her wrinkled hands and closed her eyes. "Mica, you're looking for the clear path, but there isn't one in your state of mind." Her eyes glanced up towards the sky, and the stars that were blinded out by sunlight. "But your heart knows the right way…"

Bana looked at the remains of breakfast and absentmindedly plucked up an untouched chunk of breadfruit, biting off a hunk.

"…If you would bother to listen to it."

* * *

Coralcola was a small island; you could go from one end of it to the other, or to the village at the middle of the land juncture with little difficulty and time wasted. But as Mica trailed after the other Argonian children, and eventually caught up to them so they could all walk together, the Princess thought that somewhere, whatever entity controlled the grains of reality's clock was causing them to trickle slower. It drove her insane not knowing, being haunted by her own demons and the ones that Ezilian seemed to want to drive into her thoughts as well.

Mercifully, nobody tried to engage in conversation with her, still too caught up from breakfast's chatter to bother with a new source. She wouldn't have noticed anyhow, and would have been seen as either rude or distant.

Distant was the truer perception. But in time, the northern side of the island curved into a familiar outcropping into the island's harbor, and the white laboratory of Dr. Jones came into view. Emerging from the front door was the well-toned figure of Baboo, who ran a hand through his hair as he looked at the approaching Argonians.

"Baboo!" Marlin called out, catching the native's attention in one easy holler. Baboo began to walk towards them, slowly waving his hand to greet them.

"Hello!" Baboo said cheerfully. "What are you all doing out here today?"

"We were wondering if you'd be able to tell us if Mike was home." Ezilian said smoothly, maneuvering to the front of the pack. "We were looking forward to having his company today."

Baboo's smile faded. "Mike?? No, Mike isn't home…Starting today, I'm housesitting, as Dr. Jones calls it. Dr. Jones was going on another expedition to those ruins he'd found…I got a radio message from Sub-C not too long ago as I was cleaning up the laboratory, and Mike was with him."

Mica tried not to let her face gain the same crestfallen expression her heart felt as he said that. Thankfully, no one paid her any attention, focusing solely on Baboo.

"Oh, that's a shame." Ezilian murmured, disappointment seeping in his tone. "That certainly puts a damper on things, it does." He turned about and shrugged to his counterparts. "Well then, what shall we do instead?"

Amazingly, every child found something different to do. Rozlyn wanted to go build sandcastles, Giskard was going to spend his time perusing the laboratory's extensive library, Marlin was going off to practice his pitching skills. Amethyst said she'd figure something out, and Bakusian noted that he had some errands to run for the Island Chief.

All this passed by Mica in a blur, until Ezilian sighed and clasped a hand on Baboo's shoulder. "Well then, I suppose we'll be on our way. You don't mind Giskard looking through the library?"

Baboo shook his head with an easy smile. "Our home is yours now."

The children dispersed, easily going about their normal routines. Mica politely excused herself and headed towards the north shore, her pace clipped and her head swirling.

Still disbelieving, a glimmering part of her spirit refusing to let go of the hope that Mike _had not _left, hadn't uprooted himself just because of a fact long hidden and told in strictest confidence. Looking back on it, she began to feel a sense of anger. No secrets…No secrets, and he'd run off. So truly, what did his friendship mean…

And had she been misreading him when she thought he had been grasping onto deeper feelings…

Abruptly, she stopped running and her breath caught in her throat. She had been charging for so long that lost in her thoughts, she had arrived at the northern shore.

There was the singular piece of driftwood that they had found themselves returning to time and time again; unbeckoned, they came with only a feeling that drove them both.

The waves rose up against the shore in their quiet rumble, and the driftwood sat untouched by the elements, stubbornly rising out of the beach head.

Mike was not there.

Mike was not at the village.

Mike was not on the island at all.

He was gone. Mike was on Sub-C, out in the middle of the ocean…

Gone with his Uncle Steve out to the ruins, a place that was a voyage away.

"So, our great hero has left us." Ezilian muttered, walking up behind her with a restrained expression on his face. "I can't say I'm particularly surprised."

Mica slowly turned away from the vacant driftwood towards her arranged suitor. "And why is that?" She asked in a carefully measured tone.

Ezilian shrugged, then put his hands in his pockets. "Maybe he just couldn't live with trying to live out a reputation as the great hero of Coralcola. The other kids, Marlin in particular, almost idolize him. For a kid who doesn't think of himself as a hero, that has to be overwhelming."

Mica brushed her fingers through her dark red hair, her mind a confused brew. "Are you saying he went with his Uncle to escape this place?? Because he was ashamed of everything that's happened?"

"I just think he's finally realized there's a reputation he has among the cheerier members of our entourage, and it's one he can no longer keep up." Ezilian concluded darkly. "We all know the legend of the Starseer…how he was supposed to come back and save us. But you know what I think? I think the legend is just that, Mica. A myth. A story. Because what happened to us…what happened to Argonia?? _That _was our darkest hour, and I'll be damned if Mike Jones is supposed to be the reincarnation of the Starseer."

"You never did have much faith." Mica whispered, closing her eyes.

"So what do you want me to say?" Ezilian countered. "That Mike _is _the Starseer, something I can't believe?"

"Do you choose not to believe that because of what happened to Argonia…or because of your feelings towards Mike?" Mica countered, her eyes flashing.

Ezilian's brow furrowed, and he leaned in close to her, quieting his voice to a forced whisper. "What I base that on is of little consequence. But I am concerned as of late, Mica…because more and more, you're beginning to sound like you have developed feelings for him you should not hold."

The color began to drain out of Mica's face, and Ezilian took a step back, shaking his head. "You and I are destined to be wed upon the day of maturation, mark that well. We have a duty, not only to the other children, but to the memory of your father. Don't let yourself be fooled by these fluttering illusions of romance with the Jones boy. He is just a mere human, and you…a Princess."

Ezilian clucked his tongue and began to walk off, ignoring the tears that began to develop in Mica's eyes.

"Besides, Mica; you have yet to make one simple realization." Ezilian finished dourly, pausing to look back at her with a chastising glare. "If he really did have feelings for you…_why did he leave?_"

Ending it at that, the Argonian noble turned back around and headed for the village at an easy pace. Mica's tears came freely now, and as her face grew redder and redder from the slowly developing sobs, she turned and ran the opposite direction from him, wanting to escape only farther away…to escape it all, to be as far from everyone as possible.

Far beyond her sight, Ezilian's mouth curled into the beginnings of a cold and calculating grin.

* * *

"Current speed is ten knots; estimated time of arrival to Howduyadocola is now approximately a day and twelve hours." Nav-Com droned tonelessly.

Dr. Jones looked up from his notebook of sketches and barely coherent thoughts to look at his young nephew. Mike was sitting in the front seat next to Nav-Com, staring blankly out through the massive plexiglass bubble that made up the front end of Sub-C's nose. The archaeologist couldn't help but frown.

He never thought the day would come when Nav-Com would become more of a conversationalist than a human being. Snapping his notebook shut, he walked up and tapped Mike on the shoulder, jarring the boy from his quiet state of mind.

"Hey." Dr. Jones said, smiling a bit. "You awake?"

Mike blinked a few times. "Yeah…Why d'ya ask?"

"You just seemed like you were dozing off there is all." His uncle replied, glancing at his watch. "And it seems as though it's time for lunch."

Mike blinked a few times. "Already? How long have we been sailing?"

"Approximately seven hours and twenty three minutes." Nav-Com chirped.

Mike scratched at the back of his head. "Yeah…that'd make it lunchtime all right."

Dr. Jones cleared his throat. "Nav-Com, take us to the surface and resume sailing speed of seven knots."

"Advisement; this will increase the total travel time. Continue?" Nav-Com queried.

"Affirmative." Dr. Jones said, smiling. "Mike and I will have lunch on the deck."

Ten minutes later, when the sun and the wind had dried the seawater clear of Sub-C's hatchway, Dr. Jones came up with a pair of sandwiches and two cups of some steaming liquid. Mike glanced at him casually, accepting the simple meal and sniffing at the drink.

"This isn't coffee…it smells more like chicken broth with some stuff thrown in with it."

"It is." His uncle countered, smiling. "A personal favorite of mine; sage, rosemary and a dash of paprika in chicken broth. Good for what ails you, or just for simpler occasions."

"Huh." Mike muttered, taking a tentative bite of the sandwich. "Chicken salad with sliced celery and peas?" He looked up. "This isn't a bad sandwich…my dad makes them like this too."

"That's a particular trait we both share." Dr. Jones confirmed, sipping on his broth. "When we were growing up, your grandma always made it like that."

"No wonder then." Mike said, cracking a smile for the first time since they had started out. "Gramma always did make them the best."

The two munched contentedly on their sandwiches for a while, until Mike broke the silence. "So…what exactly are you looking for in those old ruins?"

"A fair question." His uncle replied easily. "The islands of the Southern Cross are a unique place to study…they carry their own history, their own language, and for many years until recent times, were undisturbed by the rest of the world. Outside of the historic Captain Bell and a few missionaries, these islands have remained undisturbed. Those ruins buried beneath sea level by Howduyadocola are therefore of extreme importance…but why I am returning is that there are still so many things about that place that don't make SENSE."

"Like what?"

"The impression of the ruins is supposed to give one a very earthly feel…I could compare any portion of the ruins to ruins from Indonesian cultures to the Olmecs…and even the Easter Island statues. But Mike, what you must understand…is that at no time could those cultures have ever rationally interacted. By what we know of history, it's an impossibility."

Mike gnawed down the rest of his sandwich. "So what does explain the ruins then?"

Dr. Jones adjusted his glasses. "That's what I'm going back to find out…But I have this feeling that the answers are far closer than I would give them credit for."

Mike blinked a few times. "You're all mystery and intrigue…and one of these days, I'm going to get you a hat like Indiana Jones has."

His uncle chuckled. "Oh, stop it. I can't use a weapon for the life of me…not like you can."

He looked over to find Mike staring down into his broth, his eyes dulled. "I…try not to think about that." His nephew finally admitted. Dr. Jones's mirth faded, and he shook his head.

"I apologize."

"One day, I'll have to get over all of this." Mike muttered. He looked up at his uncle and shook his head. "It's best I try to do it now."

"Do you feel regret for all that's happened?"

"No." Mike said slowly. "No, it isn't regret, Uncle Steve…"

"What is it then?"

The youth finished off his broth and stared towards the horizon, his eyes dull. "I don't know."

Dr. Jones nodded. "So…what made you change your mind so quickly about coming with me?"

"I don't know."

Dr. Jones closed his eyes for a moment, pulling out a cloth and rubbing at his forehead. "It seems there's a lot of things we don't know then."

Mike's shoulders seemed to sag in towards his chest as his Uncle said that, fully understanding the inflection in those quiet, but hurt words.

"I know more than I did before." Mike began slowly, shaking his head. "About her. About them."

Dr. Jones kept quiet, waiting for him to continue. "They have their own perfect little world built up just for them, and no matter what I did for them, I can't be a part of it." Mike turned, staring into the old eyes of his fellow sailor. "And…One of them told me something."

"What?"

"That…their life would be simpler if I wasn't there." Mike finally uttered out, exhaling the weight of guilt free from his lungs and clenching a fist. "The Hell with it. Mica thinks her life is simpler without me in it? FINE. My life is simpler without her either!" Mike pounded his hand against the metallic deck. "I came to Coralcola to do a lot of fishing, get a tan, and to get away from my life. And with them around, that's all but impossible, so FINE. No more trying to worry about helping Marlin with his pitching. Forget all the complicated things that Bana keeps spouting off. Ezilian and all his competitive spirit can go take a flying leap off a short pier. And Mica and her jaded perspective on life as nothing but walking torture and endless commitments can just go back and hide in that cube, for all I care!! The Hell with them! The Hell with them all!"

His voice was tremulous in the beginning, but had built at the end to a defiant roar, bubbling with misguided venom and shattered dreams. Uncle Steve bit his lip, not wanting to believe his nephew, so good natured and capable and supportive, could utter such things. But he rationalized, that had only been part of the matters troubling his nephew.

To be honest, he was also keeping some matters about the ruins held back from Mike. Maybe a little give and take would be the way to go now…and it certainly couldn't hurt to connect to Mike a little more. The first two weeks of his vacation had been harrowing, rushed by the influence of a dark minded extraterrestrial hellbent on finishing what he had started twenty years before…patching things up since then was made all the more difficult.

"You know Mike…I never really do talk much about your dad and I, do I?" He began quietly. Mike tried to stop the quivering of his lower lip, listening intently. "He and I have always been different…I was obsessed with academia, and he with athletics." Steve chuckled, readjusting his glasses. "In retrospect, Daniel's path was certainly more popular.

We both grew up…I went onto the University of California, and he went onto a vocational school for two years. For all our differences, though…we've always been supportive of each other. You share his athletic talent in so many ways…and you know, it's true what they say, you look like your parents."

Mike nodded, waiting for his uncle to continue.

"There's something about the ruins I have yet to explain…" Steve finally said. "When you went through, you saw with your own eyes the melted escape pod that had come from Argonia…and you saw the cipher markings on it." Calmly, the archaeologist removed his glasses and cleaned them again. "Well…those cipher markings still puzzle me. Half of them I could translate…which is why Zoda kidnapped me. That half gave instructions on how to unlock the cubes' power…now, looking back, I see I mistranslated even that, mistaking 'power' for 'light'. It's still unusual, but…Anyhow. Then came the other half of the cipher, which I'm still working on to little effect. It's Argonian script, either an archaic form of it or an encoded form. But the ruins, Mike…they also had markings."

Mike, slowly connecting the dots of his uncles' ramblings, let his eyes widen a bit. "What, are you trying to tell me that…"

"There is a connection between the Argonians and the underground ruins of Howduyadocola." Dr. Jones finished calmly, setting his spectacles back on his nose and peering through the lenses at his nephew. "What that connection is…that has now become the focus of my investigation."

Mike seemed to sink into himself at that, once the shock had worn off. "It figures they'd still be hiding something from us."

"And what have they hidden from you?" Dr. Jones asked, sensing that his roundabout tactic to make Mike open up may have succeeded.

Mike said nothing, and the archaeologist lowered his voice. "What…did Mica hide from you?"

The boy drew his knees up to his chest, hugging them and looking out towards the waves. "Mica admitted to me last night…that she and Ezilian are engaged. Some kinda arranged marriage thing."

His eyes dimmed out. "But…in spite of that, I thought…Because she…and I…And then to not show up, and have Amethyst of all people tell me that she said her life would be easier if I wasn't around…?"

Mike shook his head. "I'm messed up enough already. I don't need to carry a flame for a girl who won't even be honest about her own feelings. And besides, of the others, only Marlin really respects me, and that's just because of my athletic talent. If Mica can't be honest and tell me herself, one way or the other…"

His voice trailed off, and he shut his eyes. "I can't love her…And I'll just make things even crazier than they are. So maybe it'd be best if I did just disappear. So I'll go with you, and stay out of their way. I don't owe them anything anymore. They don't owe me." He lifted his hand up in front of his eyes and shut it into a fist. "And I don't care about her."

Dr. Jones said nothing, letting the rolling surf of the sea be the only speech as he got up and collected the remains of lunch. He paused midway down the hatch ladder, staring at his nephew with those same calculating eyes. "You know, that's something else you and your father have in common." He said quietly. "You're both terrible liars."

He vanished belowdecks, leaving Mike to stare out to the northeast.

His throat had closed up when Uncle Steve had said that.

He didn't even have the capacity to cry.

* * *

The tin cans were set up in Coralcola's caverns just as Mike had left them on their last visit. Marlin strolled in calmly with his kerosene lamp swaying in one hand, and his other holding the drawstring of a canvas bag slung over his shoulder.

"Batter up." He murmured appreciatively, setting the lantern down and opening the bag. Mike had even set the cans back up in their sitting position from the last time they had practiced together; awful nice of him, Marlin thought.

From the bag, he removed what Mike called a 'MLB regulated horsehide'…a baseball, but there were always eccentric terms for such things. Ducking down into his stance, he narrowed his eyes and pulled his arm back. "Eye on the target…watch how much your wrist flicks it." He muttered quietly. The can was directly in his sights, and he threw…

It flew harmlessly by the can and impacted on the spongy wall, disturbing a snail that had been sleeping. "Blast!" Marlin snapped, shaking his head. "Man, it should be easier than this."

"One would think." Came a voice from behind him, venturing through the caves from the entrance just as he had. Marlin turned with a puzzled expression, and didn't let go of it when he saw that of all the people that might have come down to visit him, it was Princess Mica.

"Hey Mica." Marlin said, nodding his head. "What are you doing down here?"

She shrugged in response, her eyes giving off little emotion. "You're making a lot of noise…and I thought these caves were off limits."

"Bah, what the islanders don't know won't hurt them." Marlin jested. "Besides, I'm not about to lose a perfectly good spot for pitching just because some people are afraid."

"I remember hearing that Mike was helping you learn how to throw." Mica continued, strolling closer towards him. "Obviously, there's still some work to be done."

"Bah, there's always more that can be done." Marlin grumbled, running a hand through his scruffy hair. "Mike told me it wouldn't come overnight. Right now, though, I'm thinking I'm just rusty." He frowned at the cans. "Yesterday, I was hitting them. I just haven't found my stretch again. But Mike…he never misses." Marlin reached down for another ball and lofted it in his hand a few times, feeling its weight.

Mica clasped a hand around her elbow, letting her arm hang loose to her waist. "You seem to like him a lot."

"Yeah, sure." Marlin replied nonchalantly, taking another windup and throwing with the same disappointing results. Shaking his head, he reached for another ball. "I mean, the guy must have gone through heck to save our carcasses…I don't even want to think about what it was like to go up against…"

"Zoda." Mica finished softly.

"Yeah." Marlin mumbled, bowing his head for a moment before making another throw; that one failed as well. "But somehow, he pulled it off. And I stand here…we all stand here…alive, because he gave enough of a damn to make things right."

"You know, he wasn't aware that we were in those cubes when he fought to obtain them." Mica corrected.

"Doesn't matter." Marlin shrugged. "Whatever his reason for boarding the ship and fighting Zoda and rescuing the cubes, the fact is that he did. And all that matters now is that he stuck with us."

He took another throw, pleased with himself when the ball finally connected with the edge of a can and sent it toppling. His smile gave way to a quieter resignation. "It…hasn't been easy for any of us, I imagine. To have our home no longer exist? To know that all our families and friends…died…and to know that we're the last of our kind in a very strange land?" He looked at Mica for a moment, shaking his head. "The islanders mean well…they all do. And I'm grateful for that. But…"

He shook his head, reaching up with a hand to rub at his eyes. "It's just not the same as having your real parents there with you, ya know. Not a day goes by I wish my mom and dad weren't here…but then, I realize they aren't, and they can't be. And I try my best to move on."

"Yes." Mica nodded.

"Mike's been a real friend. We're trying to adapt to a new life in a world that isn't ours, and he understands that. So he does the only thing he can now; he tries to make life better for us. So…yeah. Mike's my friend. He's a friend to all of us." He finished, his resolute statement wavering at the end as he looked at Mica again.

"Isn't he?" He asked, his voice unsure.

Mica thought for a long moment, then nodded. "By that logic…then yes. But some of the others have had a harder time accepting him. And even I'm wary."

"Oh, please." Marlin scoffed, picking up another ball. "Mike's one of the most honest people I've ever known. Back on Argonia with the royal court, it was all positioning and feather fluffing; an utter waste of time and a walking falsehood, all of them."

"You always did like to stir up trouble at banquets." Mica giggled, a fond memory returning.

"But…Mike's different than that, Princess Mica. He isn't nobility. He's not even Argonian. He's honest with his feelings, and he's making an effort to keep us from falling apart. Life isn't all fun and games, but when he's around…I _want_ to try and work towards that. He gives me something happy to think about."

"There's still one topic you've avoided." Princess Mica said, after a long moment.

"Oh? And what's that, milady?"

"The Prophecy."

Marlin didn't say anything for a while, glancing back at Mica's quiet stare. He pursed his lips and looked back towards his obstacle, reaching for one last ball.

"Yeah. I suppose I haven't wanted to talk about that." Marlin mumbled. "That's the one sticky spot in all of this…I mean, it's a legend. A myth, really…just this mystical promise of hope that in Argonia's darkest hour, the Starseer would return and save us all. I mean…really, our darkest hour? That should have been way back when Zoda came to the planet and started to annihilate us. But to think that…Mike's supposed to be the Starseer? A little hard to swallow."

Marlin shook his head. "But…at the same time, he did save us. And me and the other guys, when we were trapped in that cube? We did a lot of thinking, but mostly we thought about that Prophecy…and about how the Starseer would return. We hoped on it…we hung on it, it's what kept us from tearing each other apart. That hope. And then right after we felt a terrifyingly evil presence, we felt a weaker spirit…but one that sang with a sense of justice. In our state of mind, I think we really did feel the Starseer had come back. And we wished that somehow, he had Ellini…And the moment we get pulled from those cubes, I'm staring at him. And I'm staring at his weapon."

Marlin began to rotate the ball in his fingers, boring his eyes down on his target. "He calls it the Super Nova, you know? But…whether or not it's Ellini, it has Ellini's spirit in it. Maybe we really did wish so badly that the Starseer would come, that Ellini itself came to our call. Or maybe our latent _Shilivre_, stored and focused through our unified thoughts, worked a small change in his weapon. Either way, it's what he used to beat down Zoda."

"So do you feel that Mike is the Starseer?"

"Who, Mike?" Marlin mused, smiling a bit. He readied into his windup. "Mica…if you get too caught up in old stories and prophecies passed on through enough generations that small stars could perish, you'll end up with a warped outlook. Me? I don't really care either way. If he is the Starseer, he's blind to his true nature. If he isn't, then he's just a guy who did a good deed and who's just trying to make his life count. But no matter what…he's Mike Jones. That's all. No matter what else happens, no matter whether or not legends are real, that's true enough. He's Mike." Marlin threw his ball again, and was rewarded with the rich tone of a clank as the can was hit dead center and flew against the wall.

"And that…is all that really matters."

To Mica, it seemed as though Marlin had for a moment, reached a point of simplicity in his life that rivaled little Rozlyn's.

Then again, he had far less to think about.

"Keep practicing." Mica said, turning about. "I've got to visit some other places today."

"…Mica?"

The Princess paused at the exit to his section of the cavern.

"Mike's gonna come back…isn't he?"

Mica tried not to let her head sink into her shoulders. "I don't know."

On her way out, the Argonian Princess couldn't help but notice how many rats were beginning to scurry about.

* * *

Rozlyn squinted angrily at the fabric, sending whatever death vibes she could at the quilt she was working on. Bana Omoy, who was supervising the project with her knowing smile chuckled as the young Argonian fumbled and skipped the needle across the surface of the fabric, barely missing her hand.

"Careful now, Rozlyn." The island shaman smirked, her wrinkles lessening in her smile. "You want to sew the squares, not your hand."

"I know." Rozlyn mumbled, squinting her eyes again as she lined up the needle and poked ferociously at the thin fabric. This time, she met with considerably more success, and the needle and threat went through to the other side. "Ha!" She exclaimed, beaming as she held up her work.

"That's exactly right." Bana smiled. "Now, do you think you can do it again? Remember, the needle has to go up and down…up and down…" She added, motioning with her right hand in the air for Rozlyn's perception. The little girl groaned at that.

"That's too haaaard." She whined. "It'll take me forever!"

Bana nodded. "It will indeed, take you a while, little Rozlyn. But there's a lesson to be learned here."

"There is?" Rozlyn queried, blinking. "What?"

Bana leaned in closer to Rozlyn, resting her hand on the beginnings of the quilt Rozlyn was working on. "There are some things that take a long time to make." She finally said, lowering her voice so that Rozlyn had to strain to hear, and even stop fidgeting. "But…when you get older, you'll find something out."

"Whatsat?" Rozlyn asked innocently.

Bana smiled at the little girl and motioned behind them to the wall of her hut. Rozlyn glanced and stared in amazement at a particular piece of bedding hung on the wall.

It was a quilt bigger than even the Island Chief.

Rozlyn looked back to Bana, who merely shrugged and smiled. "Sometimes, the things that take the most work and time…are the most beautiful." The shaman motioned back towards the girl's work. "Do you understand?"

"I think so…" Rozlyn squinted. "If I try real hard…And work at it long enough…I could make something really nice?"

"That you could." Bana smiled. She didn't stop smiling, but she turned her head slightly sideways towards her door. Little Rozlyn noticed Bana's glance, but the witch doctor spoke before the little girl could utter a word. "Nothing you need to worry about, dear…keep knitting. You just have to keep at it." She stood up and wandered back towards the door. "I've got to step outside for a moment. Will you be all right?" Rozlyn smiled and nodded, eagerly attending back to her work. Bana smiled and strolled outside, shaking her head.

Once she was out of earshot of the little girl, Bana closed her eyes. "Well Mica, what might I do for you this afternoon?"

Mica, her arms folded across her chest in a motion of defense on the other side of the hut's door, shook her head. "You know what I came for."

Bana blinked a few times, then chuckled. "Really now?? And why would I know that?"

_Because you hold some form of the same gift my people do._

Bana didn't need to look at Mica to know the girl had indeed spoken to her. "Some form of it…yes. But mine is meant only to guide and predict, and even then…Never mind." The shaman rubbed her forehead. "Your mind is still as muddled as it was at breakfast. I take it your day has not brought the resolution you seek then."

Mica nodded curtly, her faded eyes distant. "It…should be simpler than this."

"Even the simplest river is complex in its design." Bana said calmly. "Perhaps now you will listen?"

"I've been asking you to give me a straight answer for some time now." Mica retorted.

Bana smiled. "No, not me…listen to your heart."

Mica's face fell. The shaman inhaled a deep breath, her wrinkled skin lessening in intensity for a brief moment. "What would you have told Michael, had he not left with his Uncle early this morning?"

"I…Don't know." Mica said, after a moment of thought. "I mean…" She shut her eyes, rubbing at her forehead. "I just didn't think he would run away, that's all."

"Run away? From what?" Bana mused, lifting an eyebrow.

"…From me." Mica finally said, staring at the ground.

Bana took a sweeping glance about Coralcola Village, to the laughing children that ran in every direction and to the fishers and wives going about their chores. "No, he would not run from you. He cares for you, Mica."

"He's not supposed to."

"Perhaps not by your social structure…but I have seen the look in his eyes when you are around. And I have seen your own reactions as well." The shaman pulled her sleeves in tighter. "To all the others, you are required to maintain a regal air and stature…but Mike doesn't need that, and you drop that when you are with him. Something in his starlight puts you at ease…something warm and comforting and familiar."

The Princess fought against the overpowering urge to let her emotions consume her. "He can't be in love with me…It's not possible, it can't…"

"But he is." Bana said, shaking her head. "You have seen it in his face as I have. Perhaps the others are not as astute, but we can see beyond the veil."

"It can't happen." Mica argued, shutting her eyes. "And to have him run away from me like he did…"

"Your people aren't always this stubborn about ignoring their feelings, are they?" Bana grumbled. "You always turn it back to him, when the true maelstrom of doubt rests within you."

The shaman tucked her arms into her sleeves. "Mica, Mike didn't run because he was wavering in his feelings. He ran because a force on this island seeks to keep you apart. Even now, as doubt is setting in his mind, a part of him still shines in true starlight."

Bana looked plainly at the Argonian Princess. "He loves you, Mica."

Mica bit her lip. "I…can't love him."

The shaman closed her eyes for a moment, shaking her head as she turned her gaze towards Bakusian, who stumbled towards her brother's larger hut. "Your reasons are beyond me, fair Mica. But you'll have to face your doubts and fears at some point. And the sooner…the better." She excused herself and headed towards Bakusian, leaving Mica to glance after her eccentric caretaker for a moment before charging northwards.

Bumbling Bakusian wished there was an easier way to do this; still, Hapo had been insistent upon it, and the youth couldn't argue with the bribe of having a chance to sail in the Chief's personal fishing boat. Shirt bulging from his smuggled contents, he approached the entrance with a grin on his face.

"Hello, Bakusian." Came an old, but stern voice from beside him. The boy paused and looked over his shoulder, gulping as the shaman stared him down with a less than pleased glance. "What business do you have with my brother today, hmm?"

"Ohh, nothing in particular." Bakusian replied, trying to sound calm. It was at that moment that a pig from the villages' stables ran by, squealing at the top of its lungs as a gaggle of laughing children charged after it. Stumbling in the crowd as it passed, Bakusian lost control of his shirt, and one of the items he was holding spilled out.

Fattening pressed breadfruit wrapped in palm leaves sprawled out over the ground, and a sheepish Bakusian looked down at his feet.

Bana harrumphed and crossed her arms. "I thought as much. Bakusian, come with me…if my brother wants to try and break his diet with some afternoon snacks, he has another thing coming." Like a punished dog on a leash, Bakusian trailed after Bana Omoy as she led him into her cabin.

Five minutes later, a redfaced Bakusian emerged from her cabin with Bana and Rozlyn waving cheerily after him, and far less of a bulge in his shirt. He marched over to the Chief's door and knocked, then entered quickly.

Hapo Omoy rose from his chair, eyes glinting hungrily. "You brought them?"

Bakusian nodded mutely and walked for the dining table. Hapo almost laughed as he approached the youth designated as his snack smuggler, a skip in his step.

His smile soon faded when Bakusian emptied his shirt; vegetable stalks. Nothing but vegetable stalks…that, and a hastily folded note.

"What's this then?" Hapo mused, picking it up and unfolding it quickly.

_Sorry, brother…but you know that this diet is for your own good. Now stop trying to cheat on it, you can't get away with such nonsense while I'm around._

_-Bana_

"Blast her!" Hapo growled, crumpling the note in his hand. Bakusian, now truly flushed, shook his head.

"Sorry, Chief."

* * *

Nav-Com, as Uncle Steve had explained, had come as a part of the Sub-C package deal. A gift from the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institute, Sub-C was a more streamlined offshoot of the famous "Alvin" submersible. It wasn't designed to handle the depths of deep ocean, but made up for it in versatility, space, self-reliance, and the ability to function on the surface as well as it did beneath the waves. That and its monthlong battery life with solar panel recharge option made it favorable for the warm seas of the Southern Cross.

Nav-Com was a pet project between the Navy and the Institute. More or less an extension of the vehicle whose commands were hardwired into it, Nav-Com was, simply put, a robotic navigator with limited interaction functions. That said, his limited memory capacity had somehow advanced in the time spent with the archaeologist.

Although he still made for boring conversation.

"Current position plotted; estimated time from departure, six hours." Nav-Com chirped. Mike stirred at the grating sound, frowning for a moment as he pulled himself up out of his slouch.

"Had a good nap?" Dr. Jones queried, looking over at him with a warm smile on his face.

Mike made a nonsensical grunt, rubbing at his head. "Nav-Com always did wake me up."

"He just takes some getting used to." Dr. Jones replied, adjusting his glasses. "Still, you looked like you needed the break."

"Maybe I did." Mike agreed slowly. "So how far out are we?"

"Well, going by your original travels…we're about thirty nautical miles from the next major island…we'll hit Miracola quite soon." Dr. Jones said, glancing over the electronic display of glowing green lines beside the radar viewscreen. "We've put some distance behind us."

Mike turned from his Uncle, staring through the master viewport. "So what are we supposed to be looking for when we reach the ruins?"

"The link to the Argonians, as I've said before." Dr. Jones stated flatly, glancing at his nephew. "I have suspected since we unlocked the cubes and freed them from their stasis prison that it was not coincidence their craft landed in the ruins."

"So you think they came here before?"

"Long before, if my suspicions are correct." Dr. Jones said. "I regret that I didn't have much time to complete my first investigations."

"Kind of hard to when you're kidnapped by an alien invader." Mike joked. "But this time, you'll have a better chance."

"Hopefully." Dr. Jones said with a smile. "What we find might indeed have the power to forever alter the world's perception of history."

"Maybe." Mike said, shrugging. "I haven't really given that much thought."

"No, you've been preoccupied with other things." Dr. Jones said. "Speaking of which, how are you feeling?"

"Alive, I suppose." Mike said dully. "Isn't that how I'm supposed to feel?"

"Not ideally." Dr. Jones peered to Nav-Com. "See? This is an actual conversation. Putting up with him for the entire trip was a lot worse."

Mike grunted nonsensically. "There were days I ordered Nav-Com to not talk to me unless we were going to crash into something."

"What would you do while he was driving then?"

"Think, mostly." Mike said, memories bringing a soft smile to his face. "About what mom and dad would think if they knew instead of fishing and knocking around baseballs and drinking coconut milk, I was running around in the Pacific Ocean in a prototype submarine, trying to save my Uncle from 'aliens', as Baboo later described it. I had the hardest time believing him when he told me that inside of the whale, but…Well." He shrugged. "Meeting up with you and climbing aboard their spaceship certainly dissolved that disbelief in a hurry."

"I imagine it would." Dr. Jones said, a twinkle in his eye as he shook his head. "No, I think that your father wouldn't be too pleased to know that his son had risked his life for 'crazy Uncle Steve'." The doctor rapped his fingers against his arm for a moment. "But…we can't tell him."

Mike looked over. "I have a feeling I've thought of this myself, but…why not, precisely?"

"Simple, my dear nephew." Dr. Jones explained, sighing. "Everything that happened…everything that transpired…It is a truth more harmful than a lie. To acknowledge anything about the events of the last few weeks…to anyone…would eliminate any chance that the Argonians might have of a peaceful existence. Your entrance back from the spaceship didn't go unnoticed; I picked up on more than a few inquiries by agencies that watch the skies, but thankfully, none that were too damaging." Dr. Jones adjusted his glasses, a quiet look on his face. "Best that NASA and its overlying watchers think it was just another unexpected meteor shower."

"…You're saying that the government might try to take the Argonians, if they knew. Put them to tests and examinations." Mike muttered, nodding his head. "I thought the FBI'd be swarming over this place myself, if they knew."

"Undoubtedly." Dr. Jones said. "But I'm an archaeologist, not an agent. I have come to accept them as part of the Coralcola family, as have the natives…after all the suffering they've seen, I would do everything in my power to keep them from further harm." He looked up at his nephew. "As you have, in a more overt way."

Mike mulled over that in his head for a few moments, then nodded. "I don't know if my dad'd blab something like that…but I see your point, I guess."

The boy leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes. "…In the end, I guess I just want them all to be happy."

Dr. Jones watched his nephew for a moment, then got up and headed towards the back of Sub-C.

"What of your own happiness, Mike?" He called out from the storeroom.

"What about it?" Mike mumbled back, just loud enough for his absent Uncle to hear.

"Aren't you happy?"

"Of course I am." Mike said defensively. "I'm on vacation and out of Seattle. It's not raining, and the skies aren't gray. I'm building a tan, keeping fit, and come fall, I'm going to be even stronger."

In the storage area, the sounds of rummaging stopped, and a puzzled Dr. Jones emerged. "Nav-Com?"

"Sir?" Chirped the droid, as it swiveled about and whirred its optics into focus on the professor.

"Didn't we load my field notebook's backdata resources onto Sub-C?"

Nav-Com thought for a moment, then chirped again. "Negative, Professor Jones. I am not reading such an entry in the ship manifest."

"Aaw, Hell." Dr. Jones grumbled, shaking his head. "That's not good."

Mike sat up. "What's wrong?"

"We forgot to load some of my research notes onto Sub-C." Dr. Jones explained, sounding miffed. "Without them, my work in the ruins will be drastically hindered. We have to go back for them."

"Go back?!" Mike sputtered, standing up as if his seat had caught fire. "But we can't go back!"

Dr. Jones looked at Mike, his eyes clear through the glasses that sat on his nose. "Whyever not?"

"Because…We just…And…" Mike stumbled, starting one sentence, only to abandon it for another moments later. Finally, he stopped and shook his head. "I went with you to get away from the island. To get away from them."

"No, you did it to get away from her." Dr. Jones corrected his nephew with a raised finger. "Don't delude yourself; she's the focus in your argument." The doctor turned to Nav-Com and cleared his throat. "Nav-Com, new program entry."

Nav-Com whirred for a moment and then clicked. "Navigational controls active. Please state new course designation."

"Return Sub-C to home dock on Coralcola."

"…Request confirmation. New destination; Coralcola Island, laboratory cavern dock. Confirm?"

"Confirm, Nav-Com. Affirmative destination."

Nav-Com whirred for a moment more, and Sub-C began to slow down. Finally, it jarred into the beginnings of a turn, and its motor revved back up to speed.

"Confirmed. Sub-C is now on a return heading to Coralcola Island. Estimate arrival 8:35 P.M. Note: Variance of 2.33 minutes, be advised."

Dr. Jones nodded and went back to his seat, placidly staring out of the massive front viewport as the horizon went from northeast to southwest. Behind him, a stunned Mike sank back into his chair, shaking his head.

"I can't believe we're going back."

Dr. Jones chewed on his lip for a moment, then clicked his tongue. "Something I learned long ago, Mike…You can't run away from your problems. You've got to face them, or you'll always regret it." He looked back. "It seems to me there's a lot of misunderstanding between you…and the others." Dr. Jones shook his head. "Between you and Mica. Consider this a chance to clear the air."

"She doesn't want me."

"Did she tell you that?" Dr. Jones asked sharply.

Mike blinked a few times before realization set in. "…no."

Dr. Jones let out a satisfied grunt and folded his arms with a smile.

"Well, there's your first problem right there. No telling what else you could solve…if you just start using that head of yours."

Mike looked at the floor, and then at the ceiling of the submersible they were in. He still had his doubts. And he wasn't looking forward to this. He even suspected that his Uncle had somehow forced this turnaround just to make him deal with it. But he'd get through it.

After all, he was a pitcher for a reason.

He hated running.

* * *

Doctor Jones, as the islanders called him, lived in a laboratory centered on the peninsula that jutted out from the inner side of Coralcola's north maw, spanning into the center of C-Bay. Traveling anywhere on Coralcola was never much of a walk, but it was far enough away for Mica's tastes. After all, the professor of digging up the past, as his title was simply put, had given all of the Argonians an open invitation to the use of his home; minus, of course, the highly expensive equipment in the true 'laboratory' portion of the facility.

Going in through the front northern entrance, the structure sought to impress immediately with the expansive living room, complete with fireplace, a "Forty inch television set", a viewing device, and posh furniture and carpeting. Connected to it was the open kitchen with white linoleum flooring, and up mahogany stairs from the living room was the second floor, and the living quarters for the homestead. That much she knew from her first visit to the place…but from what she had been told, there was more to this place, including a library. A little quiet reading, given the events of the day, seemed like just the ticket.

So going through the yet unexplored hallway, she ventured deeper into the home of Mike's Uncle, and within reasonably short order, found it. It was meant to impress, certainly; the reading room and library was about forty feet wide, with a pair of cushioned chairs and lamps in the center of the room, and bookshelves lined up all along the walls. Along the floor, there were tiny rows of smaller bookshelves, impressive yet not imposing.

Mica was certainly stunned; the collection was large enough that it rivaled the former Argonian Royal Families' personal library at the palace. Still not as impressive as the Argonian Records Center had been, but for a collection on earth, it was nonetheless dauntless…and to her knowledge, all unfamiliar.

Abruptly, a hand reached out from the hidden front side of one of the chairs and gripped the armrest, staying there as a figure leaned to the side and turned about for a better look at the new presence.

Mica blinked in surprise. "Giskard?"

The frumpy Argonian boy nodded his head briefly, keeping careful hold of the open book in his left hand. "Small world, Princess." He turned back around and went back to his first sitting position, oblivious to the rest of the world once more.

Giskard Rorth; that was his full name, but just like the rest of the Argonians, he had given up on that and gone by his first name alone as well. He was by far, the most unusual of the children of nobility that had been exiled from Argonia before its destruction; Mica could recall that even back during court functions and galas, while Ezilian had vamped and Marlin had sought to create chaos, Giskard had always sat in the corner, his face a mask of boredom and contempt.

Little of that had changed. He was still one of the hardest people to gain a bead on, and Mica had known him for her entire life. She couldn't remember many details of when they had been truly young children, but the youth that was nearly two cycles younger than her, she could recall, had been just as dour when he was little.

No matter, she decided with a shake of her head. She strolled around the room, scanning across the spines of all the books present. What still amazed her to no end…was how close common Argonian was to their own 'English', as it had been referred to. The more archaic Argonian, reserved typically for religious and ceremonial occasions, had no connection whatsoever. A few words here and there were different…but she understood the majority of them, could read the words along Dr. Jones' book collection.

If only the options weren't so overwhelming. Shrugging her shoulders, she chose instead to walk over and sit back in the second lounge chair in the room, closing her eyes as she sunk into the soft fabric.

Chairs, Mica thought, were a wonderful thing.

"I think so too, most days." Giskard mumbled halfheartedly, never looking up from his book. Mica opened her eyes back up and glanced over at him curiously, then mentally chastised herself for losing control. A concentrated thought quieted the reach of her mind, and the _Shilivre_ she had unconsciously used faded back out.

One entire side of the room was an enormous window, looking out to the south and to Coralcola Bay. Mica stared out of it for a few moments, watching the fishing boats placidly go back and forth as the natives went about their daily routines. About a quarter mile off, she thought she could make out the figure of Baboo, flailing his arms a few times as a fish flapped in his face, finally falling backwards into the sea. Despite herself, she giggled.

Remembering where she was, she quieted her voice back down and looked over at Giskard. If he was at all disturbed by her presence or antics, the youth showed no sign of it. His eyes burned intensely into the pages with their cool fire, his mouth emotionless as he turned the page and absentmindedly brushed a hand through his mottled mop of hair.

"…You don't talk much, Giskard." Mica finally ventured, breaking the silence.

Giskard paused his reading and glanced above the top of his book, staring back at her. "I never have much of a reason to. Does that bother you?"

"Not really." Mica said quickly, shaking her head. "Actually…it's a welcome change."

"Huh." Giskard grunted, looking back to his text.

Mica felt awkward at that, not used to being the one who had to start conversations. "So…what are you reading?"

In response, Giskard turned another page. "Faust."

"What's it about?"

"Right now, it's about a man who has made a deal with good's counterpart, trading his 'soul' for the unrequited treasures and pleasures of life. Only he's finding it not as fulfilling as he thought it would be." Giskard stated flatly. "But I don't give book reviews, so don't ask me about it again."

Mica bit her lip and looked back out the window again, falling silent. This she did for another few minutes, her thoughts errantly racing about without a pattern or care.

She realized she had lost control of her mind's reach when Giskard sighed and slammed the book shut with an audible thump, resting it flat on his lap and looking over at her. "I see now there is no way I'll be able to finish this in peace until you're gone."

Mica blushed and drew back her _Shilivre_. "My apologies."

Giskard waved a hand. "You're still better than Marlin any day. He gets on my nerves; you're just keeping me from a very good book."

"I don't mean to get in the way, it's just…" Mica shook her head. "I'm just a little muddled right now, is all."

"Well, that much is obvious." Giskard replied drily. "Any other day, you'd have no problems keeping your inherited strength under control. So did you come here looking for solitude or somebody to talk to?"

Mica's early embarrassment met with annoyance at that, but she contained herself. "I actually thought I would be alone here. If I wanted mindless conversation, I certainly would have sought it elsewhere."

Giskard harrumphed again, but amazingly cracked a smile at that. "Good comeback." He rapped the surface of his book and closed his eyes. "However, mindless conversation isn't my specialty, so we'll have to stick to more engaging topics. So what shall it be, then? Concerns, drifting thoughts? People?"

Mica blanched at the last option. "You're to the point, aren't you?" Giskard nodded curtly. The princess sighed and motioned towards him. "So are you enjoying life here on Coralcola?"

"My basic needs are met, the people are friendly, and I have some semblance of our old civilization left." Giskard replied. "I wouldn't say I'm enjoying it; then again, I didn't enjoy my life much back on Argonia either."

Mica blinked at that. "How could you…"

Giskard stared at her. "Unlike your parents, who were genuinely in love with each other and cared for you, my own were not so accommodating. I suppose you forgot that my parents were the product of an arranged marriage?"

Mica lifted her eyebrows. "I never knew that."

"Well, it wasn't common talk. Nothing good came from that. They saw each other as nothing but windows to their own avenues of advancement…and their only hope for me, when I came along, was that I would become your suitor, and the future king."

"But you didn't." Mica observed. "Ezilian…he became my betrothed."

"Naturally." Giskard harrumphed. "Once that happened…They lost all interest and attention to me. I wasn't even hated by my parents, Mica. They just no longer cared. I couldn't be their golden child to further their own gains, so why bother?"

Mica shut her eyes for a moment. "You never told any of us that."

Giskard snorted. "Who would have listened? They met my basic needs. I had my own tutor, I was fed and clothed and given shelter. But whatever growth I had as a person didn't come from them, it came from myself."

He lifted up his book, displaying the cover. "This was my childhood, Mica. Books, and my desire to learn from them. The world was too much of a mess to even deal with, so I retreated into these."

"…No wonder you're always so grouchy and secluded." Mica said sadly. "I'm sorry."

Giskard's dour face looked more tired than usual as he eased back into his seat and put the book back down. "There's nothing anyone can do about it, so don't feel guilt. And don't go telling anyone else either. Bakusian could give less of a care, Marlin'd tell jokes all day trying to cheer me up, and Ezilian would just be his cruel self. And the last thing I need are those two girls fawning over me."

Mica giggled at that a bit, and for a moment, even Giskard's features lightened.

For a moment.

"I'll keep your secret, Giskard." Mica said, regaining her composure. "It's just…You've never opened up to anyone before. Even back home, you kept to yourself a lot of the time."

"Yes I did." Giskard replied tonelessly. "The world of nobility and parties wasn't my world. That was my parents', and I wanted none of their existence."

"So you became a hermetic scholar instead."

"Naturally. I am everything the world of the nobles wasn't; intelligent, focused, and completely unconcerned with etiquette and traditions. An outlook like that didn't bode well for my connections, so I had to keep it hidden. Here…none of that matters. I can be myself."

Mica was quiet for a moment, then smiled at him. "You know, for someone who claims to hate mindless conversation, you sure can talk a lot."

Giskard shook his head at that. "This is far from mindless, my dear Princess. This is healthy venting. Besides, a part of you has always been curious about me. Allow me to enlighten your missing answers."

"You speak with a maturity I didn't think anyone our age could have." Mica noted.

"I'm not much of a conversationalist, but what I do know comes from books that know of proper form and dialogue, and a good handful of verbiage." He shrugged at that. "Simply put, I speak as if I was myself a book." He stood up and motioned his hands around. "In Argonia, the archives of our planet was my own hideaway. Even here on Earth I have found another trove to delve into. And I can tell you, Mica…these humans are interesting people."

"Oh?"

Giskard shook his head. "I haven't even begun to scratch the surface…but what I have been able to come up with so far is that the islanders are far from the bulk of humanity. We live on an island out in the middle of a grand ocean they call the Pacific; the richest of their kind lives in towering spires of metal and glass and stone, they mastered electricity and even obtained atomic energy. They have spread from a tiny niche at the center of their planet and spread to every inhabitable corner; they have ventured out into space and gone so far as their moon, and sent unmanned probes even farther. They have survived an ice age, plagues, droughts, floods, and starvation. They number so many that they could even match the stars…They are so varied in different respects that they have killed each other, gone to war for their differences."

Giskard shook his head. "They are capable of so many wonders…and yet they struggle and squabble, so easily turned to their base instincts. If they could ever realize how much more there is out there…how small they truly are, and how fragile this world and their existence is…then they could reach out and forever change the shape of the stars." He sighed and sat back down. "Sadly, it seems that there are too many forces within their own sphere committed to keeping them from ever reaching up to the heavens. They may survive, they're stubborn enough…but they're far more likely to never escape their own filth than grow."

Mica lowered her head. "Mike and I talked about that same thing once." She looked at her palm. "His people have never been forced to recognize the greater Universe."

"And they could not start with us." Giskard said sagely, shaking his head. "As much as our presence, were it revealed to humanity's leaders and populace, might rattle things up and force them to reach, I much prefer my solitude and freedom. As, I feel, we all do."

Mica nodded at that, and Giskard laid his book aside, lifting a leg up onto the other and folding his hands in his lap. "So then. You and Mike, eh?"

The Princess blinked. "Beg'r pardon?"

Giskard rolled his eyes. "Don't assume I'm as dumb as the others, Seremichaela. They're busy trying to fit in, to recover. Seeing as I had little love for my family or for the society I lived in, I had no need to do either, and that freed me up to observe and watch the world around me. One of the things I've had the opportunity to observe…is how you and Mike have gotten closer these last few days. Or at least, you seemed more than just conciliatory yesterday morning."

Mica's eyes narrowed. _You've been using Shilivre?_

Giskard's face remained normal as he shook his head. "I have not. Just my eyes and my mind, and those have been enough."

"…Was I that obvious?"

"In all the years I have known you, I've never seen you smile the way you did when you and Mike got done with fishing. It…was relaxing, really. I've seen you fake plenty of good moods, trying to uphold civility and act as an example for the rest of us." Giskard pointed at her. "No, you've always been a reserved person, and you were moreso after we were pulled from the cubes. I can respect that." Giskard's thoughtful eyes glanced over her. "But you weren't that secluded person yesterday…and today, you're not sure how to feel. So knowing those things…I can only make the conclusion that our dear Mike Jones was the source of your changed mood yesterday."

Giskard looked down at his book. "His departure has affected you just as much."

Mica looked down at her feet. "You…Bana…It seems like everyone knows how I should feel, except me."

Giskard snorted at that. "What, you're expecting me to give you advice on your feelings, of all things? I'm sorry, Princess, but I make observations and deal with the scholarly issues in life. It's not my jurisdiction to tell you how to live one." He glanced through the window, then back down to his book. "You didn't come here for that, anyhow."

Mica stood up. "True enough. Anything else I might learn from you?"

"Oh, you could learn plenty. You'd just find most of it extraordinarily boring and useless." Giskard answered, a slight bit of mirth rising in his tone. He opened Faust back up and found his page again. "But if you're that hard up for some little nugget of wisdom…Well, far be it from me to not fulfill my Princess' query."

Mica folded her arms. "This is going to be better than most of what I've heard today."

Giskard rested the spine of the book on his lap and left his finger on the exact word he had stopped at. He turned up to her, blinking a few times before harrumphing, his face's stony gaze restored.

"The only voice worth heeding in life is your own, Princess Mica. Nobody can tell you how to live it but you, and nobody should try. So don't let them tell you how; just start living it, and go with what feels right. Only then will you be able to go through existence without guilt…even though, no matter what you do, you'll always carry regrets."

Giskard spoke with force in his words, and a push that was for him, a great deal of emotion all at once. It soaked into Mica like nothing else had that day; maybe because it came from a fellow Argonian, maybe because it came from a friend. Maybe because Giskard hadn't been trying to boss her around, hadn't even wanted a conversation until she'd unwittingly forced it.

Maybe because she understood Giskard in a way that nobody else did now. And that openness was something she didn't see much of.

Gently, she walked over and rested her hand on his shoulder, looking down at him with a gentle smile. _Thank you._

He blinked, receiving her telepathic message clear as day. "For speaking my mind? For not being like the others? That I can't help…but you're welcome all the same."

Mica chuckled at that. "You know, when there's nobody else around, it's okay to use Shilivre."

Giskard glanced at her hand, then up at her face. A sad smile glanced across his own, making Mica almost shudder in surprise. He reached his free hand up and patted hers, looking back down at his book in shame.

"…If I could."

Dumbstruck, Mica reached out with her senses to try and feel his own presence.

It was not there.

"You…you can't…" She began, horrific realization setting in.

Giskard turned the page in his book, no longer able to look back up at her. "Funny thing about parents whose only concern for their child is what can be gained from his use. They tend to stop paying attention once it's made painfully apparent he can never hope to fulfill the role of suitor."

Mica pulled her hand back, shaking her head. "I…I didn't know."

"Nobody did." Giskard snorted, turning the page again, blasting through the text. "It was the best kept secret of the nobility, and the most shameful thing to ever befall the line of Rorth. The only son of the line…utterly devoid of the mystical power that separated the elite few from the huddling masses they ruled. That's why I couldn't be your betrothed, Mica. In their eyes…I was no better than a commoner. The title…and none of the power."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Giskard said, harsher than he had meant to be. "Don't be." He said again, quieter. "I've compensated for it, and in this world…I at least have a chance to be myself. There's no guilt left in me."

"Just regrets."

"…There's always room for regret." Giskard mused, motioning towards the door. "Just do us both a favor…and don't go down my road. Make your own, and give yourself a little less to regret about."

Shaking her head and smiling at the wisdom in that, Mica strolled back out for the exit. She paused in the doorway and turned around, staring towards the back of his chair.

"I'll keep this between us, if that's okay. And Giskard? I…"

"…Do you feel better than you were when you came in here?" Giskard interrupted abruptly.

"W…well, yes…"

"Then there's nothing left to say. Let me finish my reading in peace." The grouchy Argonian concluded.

Mica smiled at that, but didn't argue with the wisdom. She left the library, no longer feeling the urge to run away. Maybe a walk along the shore would do the trick…

Back in the library, a single drop of moisture fell down and soaked into the corner of Giskard's next page. His free hand came up and brushed at his face, and the droplet spread out and left a watermark on the previously pristine paper.

"There's always regret." Giskard remarked to himself, so quiet that he could barely hear himself say it.

He reached back down to turn the page…

And ignored the fact his other hand was shaking on the armrest.

* * *

The eastern lip of Coralcola's north shore could best be described as a lookout point. The edge of it had no beach to speak of, choosing instead to become a jutting outcrop of grass and land with a small cliff to guide it. Surely, Mica thought, nobody would be there.

As she walked along the rim of the piled stones that grew larger the farther towards the sinking sun she went, she noticed an odd formation of stones close to the edge, out of place with the others.

The closer she came, Mica discovered something. Those weren't stones.

They were people. She frowned at her discovery, then for a reason that was simply instinctive, darted quickly into the rocks and approached at a slower speed. Whoever they were, they hadn't noticed her. So she kept on walking, keeping low to the ground and keeping as silent as she could muster.

Closer in, at fifty feet, she could make out Ezilian's face, smiling at his companion and wrapping an arm around their shoulder. No…her shoulder. Female. Mica frowned and came in closer still, perking her ears up to hear the conversation.

"…All in all, I'd have to say that today's treated me rather well." Ezilian said cheerfully, hugging the girl closer. "Good food, good company, and all my problems just up and decided to leave."

"Your problems? I thought you said he was a problem for all of us." The girl replied meekly. Mica's ears jumped up at that, and her eyes narrowed. It was Amethyst, her hair unfurled from its two buns to let hang loose; outside of the voice, she was almost unrecognizable from behind.

Ezilian clucked his tongue at that. "True, that he was. He would disrupt everything…ruin everything, had we not acted when we did."

As Mica watched horrorstruck, Ezilian leaned over and kissed Amethyst on the forehead and nose, causing the girl to giggle. "You're my hero, you know that? You did well this morning."

"Oh, quiet you." Amethyst blushed, pushing him back. "You must say that to Mica all the time."

Ezilian chuffed at that, acting offended even as he smiled his confident grin. "Not so, my little crystal flower. I'm Mica's betrothed…she needs no sweet words from me."

Had Mica not been so stunned by what she saw, she might have felt obligated to announce her presence, to suddenly appear and end whatever little soiree the two were involved in. But as Ezilian's fingers crept in closer and tickled the soft flesh of Amethyst's neck, causing the girl to arch her back with a sigh, the only command Princess Mica's body responded to was paralyzing disbelief.

"Besides, Amethyst…How can I be expected to love someone I've been paired up with since we were little?" Ezilian pouted, lowering his free arm to wrap it around her waist.

"…So you don't love her?"

"Not like I love you, my dear." Ezilian crooned, pulling her in for a kiss that made Mica's face burn in rage.

Unwittingly, her hand began to clench and unclench in anger. Because now it was all beginning to make sense.

Everything that Bana had said to her.

All the warnings she had been given about Ezilian. All of her future husband's words and motivations. And Giskard…even his life found connection, as she stared aghast at the two, whispering sweet nothings and fondling each other.

"And now there's no Mike to complicate things, is there?" Ezilian laughed a bit, running a hand through her hair. "Oh, I wish I could have seen the look on his face when you told him that Mica didn't want him around…It must have been priceless."

"He…Was upset after that." Amethyst said hesitatingly. "I think that's why he left. I don't think I could do it again…"

"Oh, you won't have to." Ezilian consoled her, lightly tracing a fingertip along the side of her face and then moving down to tickle her collarbone. "No, I think we've seen the last of our dear Mike Jones…And the last of his meddling presence."

Mica's blood, boiling in infuriation at the infidelity Ezilian displayed, ran cold in an instant as he said that. Because now she knew why Mike had left in such a hurry…

Ezilian had made Amethyst lie to Mike. Had made her say something so horrible that Mike had dropped everything, gone away from everyone, and ventured out into the ocean with the intention of never having to return.

She could stay still no longer, as the ice in her veins shattered under the heat and allowed jagged shards of murderous intent to flow through her boiling bloodstream. Barely aware of anything else but Ezilian's conniving, controlling grin, and Amethyst's fawning attentions, she stepped out from behind the rocks and marched towards them with hands drawn into fists.

Traditional Argonian sensitivity to sound failed the would-be lovebirds as their Princess stomped up behind them and punched Ezilian hard in the shoulder, sending him sprawling out onto the grass with a surprised grunt of pain. Amethyst gasped and recoiled away, jumping from the stone the two had been sitting on.

Awestruck, Ezilian righted himself with a hand pressed against the sore spot Mica had created. He blinked a few times, then shook his head. "…Mica? What are you doing here?"

Mica stood taut like a bowstring as her breath rushed in and out of her lungs with ferocious speed, despite her best attempts at self-control. Red rage flushed in her cheeks, even as the color drained out of Ezilian's and especially Amethyst, who turned away in shame and put more distance between them.

Mica pointed an angry finger at Ezilian, her dazzling eyes of starlight burning with the flame of a star gone nova. "Something far more innocent than you were doing." She choked out, shaking her head. "To think that you and Amethyst…all this time…" She shook her head. "Just how long has this been going on?!"

Amethyst regained her voice. "Since…since we got here, I suppose."

Mica bit her lip. "I see." She turned to Ezilian, her fingers digging into her palm. "I can't believe you."

Ezilian picked himself up, clearing his throat. "Mica, I…"

"_SAVE IT."_ Mica growled. "That you would plot and connive and make Amethyst _lie_ to Mike, make him run off like that…"

"I really don't see why you're so offended." Ezilian said calmly, flexing his arm. "I mean, Mike came to Coralcola for a vacation, and to spend time with his Uncle, so he's really…"

Mica's glower darkened, and a gentle aura of light slowly began to rise around her, stopping Ezilian midsentence. "That still doesn't change the fact you've been trying to get rid of him for some time now, you _Drekmal_."

Ezilian blanched. "Princess, such language…"

Mica took a step closer to him, then stopped herself, still shaking her head. "All this time, I just couldn't see it...no, I didn't WANT to see it…"

Ezilian's eyes narrowed, his previous defensive position vanishing. "All right, I admit it. I think Mike Jones is nothing but a bad influence on you. I think his presence serves to do only one thing; distract you from your responsibilities as leader of your people. And I think that you have forgotten your obligations!"

"_Inchab_ my obligations!" Mica screamed, a tear burning in her eye. Amethyst gasped at the malediction, but the daughter of Hirocon paid her no mind. "What obligations, Ezilian? To rule?! To rule what? There's nothing left, damnit! Our home was destroyed by Zoda, our family, everything we knew and loved is gone!"

"While that may be the case, we nonetheless have the ability to rebuild here!" Ezilian argued back. "The Argonian race is not extinct, not by a longshot! You're so caught up in Mike's lines about just 'being yourself' and finding a new way to live that you've been ignoring that possibility…that DUTY you carry."

Head pounding, Mica closed her eyes for a moment, still able to make out Ezilian's form as clear as day with her mind's vision. "And just what duty would I have left to carry out to a race whose only survivors are four boys, two girls, and myself?"

Ezilian almost sneered at that, swaggering a few steps closer to her. "Why…continuing the royal line, of course…ensuring that the legacy of Sellarus lives on."

Mica had never truly enjoyed Ezilian's company. They had known since they were little that one day, they would be forced to marry. He had always taken that fact for granted, and because of it, she carried no great affection for him. She had worked to simply get along with him, a process that had been difficult on Argonia; and nigh impossible, ever since they had been restored to full form here on Earth. For the longest time, she had resigned herself to the idea that the marriage would simply occur; and that, for better or worse, she would grin and bear it as a part of her royal duty, bring forth new life, and carry on the legacy her mother had left to her, as her mother had before her.

But now as they stood on the edge of Coralcola, on a grassy cliff above the foamy crashing waves, that resignation no longer existed. Now in its place was abject horror and disgust…

That such a faithless and philandering man had been chosen to become her life partner, indeed, to RULE Argonia…

Giskard's words, and his life ringing hard and fresh in her ears, she turned away from the two and shook her head. "Never."

Ezilian's smirk vanished in a blink. "What?"

Mica lifted her head up and started to walk away. "You are fool and a wretch of a man, Ezilian Tyrene. I will have no part in such a contract…"

"You can't escape it, Mica." Ezilian growled, marching up to her and gripping onto her shoulder with firm fingers. "It was royal decree long ago..."

She whipped her head about, eyes brimming with tears, but underneath those, a fury that screams could not temper. The gentle aura around her exploded in a locus of blinding light, and the potent burst of her innate _Shilivre_ sunk into Ezilian's skull with the force of a sledgehammer. He recoiled in pain, crying out only once as he collapsed to the ground, writhing about and curling in on himself, his eyes screwed shut and his hands never once leaving his skull.

"The past is dead, Ezilian." Mica chirped bitterly. "I'll make my own damned destiny, one without your betrothal. If my father were alive…if he knew how cold and unworthy you truly were, he would have revoked our arranged marriage in an instant. As the sole heir to the throne…I act with his authority."

Ezilian was still in too much in pain to respond, and Amethyst cried out and knelt down next to him, drawing him in and reaching out with her own, less destructive mental energies to soothe his pain.

The tears came freer now for Mica, and she shook her head at the young Amethyst, who looked up at her in a combination of guilt, disbelief, and hurt feelings.

"I've just done you a favor now, Amethyst." Mica choked out, forcing her aura to subside and vanish, along with her powers. "He's back on the market…this way, you can have him all you like, just the way you two want it. And now, you can do it without the shame of being labeled as a simple concubine."

The Argonian girl blushed at the comment and hid her face from the Princess.

Mica felt sick to her stomach, the more she remained there.

So she did the only thing she could;

She took off running. Anywhere but here.

Anywhere but there.

* * *

_Coralcola Island_

_June 26__th__, 1990 A.D._

_6:27 P.M._

"…is is Sub-C, radioing to C-Central. Baboo, do you copy?"

Baboo looked up from his microwaved dinner of instant noodles, staring at the blinking communication radio he'd taken with him from the dock. "Must be checking in." He grabbed the radio and pushed in the talk button. "This is Baboo, Sub-C. How's the seas tonight, doctor?"

"They're fine, Baboo, just fine." Dr. Jones replied with a chuckle. "I just thought I'd give you a bit of forewarning; we made it a couple of hours out, before I realized we'd forgotten something. We turned back around, and if Nav-Com's estimates are right, we're about fifteen minutes from port."

Baboo stared at the radio. "Coming back? It must have been something important for you to stop your trip. Shall I grab it for you, so you can depart immediately?"

There was a pause on the line for a few moments before Dr. Jones responded. "No, no rush. We'll just set out tomorrow; I'll have at least one more night then to sleep in my own bed."

Just then, Giskard walked into the kitchen with a book slung under his arm. He looked at Baboo and blinked a few times. "Something up?"

Baboo covered the radio's receiver with his hand and nodded. "Doctor Jones and Mike are returning; it seems they forgot something when they left this morning."

Giskard aahed and nodded his head, walking over and taking a seat beside Baboo. "What's that?" He asked, pointing to Baboo's dinner.

"Instant noodles…They're called ramen."

Giskard took a smell of them from his chair and grunted. "Smells delicious to me. Think they'd mind if I made some? I've been in the library all day."

"Well, it couldn't hurt to ask." Baboo smiled, punching the talk button again. "Doctor Jones, I have Giskard here with me, and he wanted to know if he might try some of your ramen."

"The way I order it by the freight case, that's no worry. Go ahead, Giskard, have a few on me!" Dr. Jones chuckled.

"Fantastic." Giskard muttered, jumping off of his chair and leaving his book behind. "Where does he keep them, Baboo?"

"Try the upper cabinet to your left." Baboo offered. He turned back to the radio. "Well Doctor Jones, you've just made his evening. If I might ask, what exactly did you forget?"

"Oh, just some resources from my first field notebooks. They have some vital decryptions and ideas necessary if I am to decipher the ancient script in those ruins…as well as to determine if they're Argonian or not."

Over at the cabinet, Giskard paused in his ramen retrieval and perked his ears up. He glanced back at Baboo, narrowing an eyebrow. "…Did I just hear him right? Argonian? Ancient script?"

Baboo nodded at that, and Giskard frowned. "Let me talk to him for a moment." Baboo was surprised for a bit, but handed over the radio without prompting a single question.

"Doc, this is Giskard…did I hear you right? You think there's Argonian script in some ruins?"

"Not just any ruins, Giskard." Dr. Jones corrected him. "The ruins that we found your escape pod in. If my hunch is correct…then there may be more to Argonia's relationship to Earth than I once thought."

Giskard narrowed both his eyebrows at that. "I see." He mulled over a thought in his head for a moment, then punched the talk button down. "Doc, I haven't been the best of houseguests here on the island…If you'd allow me to do a small favor, might I take a look at your notebooks?"

"…You think you might be able to understand them?"

"If it is Argonian…archaic or otherwise…I should be able to. I'm a bit of a bookworm." Giskard answered calmly.

"…Well, all right then. Baboo, you should find the laminated and bound photocopies of my field notebooks in the blue file cabinet in my laboratory. Do you think you could get them to Giskard for me?"

Baboo nodded at that, and slurping down the last of his noodles, turned around and headed for the laboratory at his brisk pace.

Giskard squeezed the transceiver. "He's on his way."

"Good to know. Well, I suppose we'll see the both of you soon enough then. This is Sub-C, signing off." Dr. Jones concluded, the radio chirping with static one last time before going quiet.

Giskard set the radio down next to his book and looked at the ramen in his free hand.

"…I suppose dinner will have to wait." Giskard murmured. "I've got some questions of my own I want answered too, and if Dr. Jones is right about his hunch…"

The Argonian shook his head. That was some distance off, and despite the sudden flaring questions that had become ignited, he had other things to worry about.

Like what the other Argonians once they found out that the Jones clan had returned.

* * *

Down in the village, the rest of the Argonians, minus Princess Mica, were calmly eating dinner along with the rest of the villagers. It was a relatively quiet evening, and despite Marlin's best attempts to lighten their spirits, Ezilian and Amethyst proved insatiably stony.

"Bana n' I worked on a quilt today!" Rozlyn chirped excitedly, looking around after setting down her cup of water.

"Did you now?" Bakusian asked, a smile on his face. "Did you get much done?"

"Enough." Bana said, shrugging. "All things worth keeping take time and effort to make. And speaking of effort…Brother, how goes your diet?"

"Fine." Hapo Omoy grumbled, gnawing halfheartedly at another celery stalk. The look of disappointment in his eyes wasn't lost upon the elderly sage, who smiled knowingly and folded her arms at the comment.

"That's good to hear. Perhaps I will receive a more positive message from the spirits about you one day."

"Hey, has anyone seen Giskard lately?" Marlin asked, glancing about with a worried expression on his face. After seeing a few people shake their heads, the boy harrumphed. "I wonder where he got himself off to…"

A figure blasted into the communal hut, huffing and out of breath after a long run. All eyes turned towards the unexpected visitor, but it was Hapo who spoke, the natives deferring to him out of respect.

"Baboo, how are you this evening?" Hapo Omoy asked amiably. He motioned towards the table. "Eat with us, please."

Baboo shook his head. "I've already had dinner…but I came with news."

Hapo blinked. "Important enough to make you run?"

"All the way from Doctor Jones' laboratory, yes." Baboo replied, wheezing a bit. "They're coming back…Mike and Dr. Jones will be back on Coralcola in a few minutes."

Ezilian paled for a moment, putting a hand to his forehead as if a sudden headache had claimed him. Marlin's face brightened, however.

"All right! I knew that Mike couldn't leave us without saying goodbye first!" He looked to Bakusian, all smiles. "Whaddid I tell ya, huh? Whaddid I tell ya?" The other boy smiled at that, biting off another piece of fish without a care.

"It must have been something important for them to cut their trip short." Amethyst commented softly.

"It was; Dr. Jones had left some of his notebooks behind, and he needed them." Baboo explained. "Dr. Jones plans to leave tomorrow morning, after a good night's sleep."

"…And if Mike knows what's good for him, he'll leave then too." Ezilian muttered softly. Amethyst knew what he had said, and even Bakusian and Marlin had heard. Everybody else had only heard nonsensical mumblings.

Bana turned to address the boy, her calm eyes filled with volumes. Even without clarity, she'd understood the emotions behind his statement. "What was that, Ezilian?"

"Nothing." Ezilian said, shrugging off the question with a wave of his hand. "Just talking to myself is all." He turned back to his food, remaining quiet after that.

"We should tell Giskard that they're coming back…" Rozlyn began, glancing about. Baboo smiled at that and threw back his wild mane of hair.

"No need to worry about that, miss. Giskard was with me at Dr. Jones' place when I got the radio phone call."

"Oh." Rozyln mumbled, deflated.

"Still, there's one person that doesn't know they've come back." Marlin noted, raising a finger. "Princess Mica. I haven't seen her since early this afternoon myself…how about the rest of you?"

No was heard all around, and amazingly, nobody caught the guilty look that blossomed on Amethyst's face once more. Ezilian remained as stony as he always was, when he wasn't seeking to impress.

It was Bana who cleared her throat. "She's resting in my quarters…She came back a few hours ago, and she wasn't feeling the best. I'm bringing her dinner later, so I'll tell her then. Meantime, let the poor girl sleep."

"She got sick?" Bakusian chuffed. "Geez, that's not good. Well, give her my best then, would you ma'am?"

"I certainly will, Bakusian." Bana offered with a smile. She looked around the room one last time and stood up. "Well, if our exploring relatives from the land of Americola are going to be coming back soon, I think we had all best make some preparations, don't you?"

All fell into agreement at that, and quickly scampered from dinner about to accomplish what had to be done.

A silent Bana, watching from the shadows of her hut, watched Amethyst and Ezilian stroll off together, the boy's face dark as he uttered some quiet and tersely worded phrases to his accomplice.

Bana's eyes glinted in the light of the central tribal fires. "They don't have time for this nonsense..." A hand went to her forehead, fighting the pulsing headache that blossomed in it. "And neither do I."

* * *

The cockpit bubble of Sub-C burst out of the water and cleared the depths of the natural cavern that served as its main harbor. In the fluorescent lighting of the chamber, the rippling water about the vehicle shimmered against the walls and ceilings, stopped only by the monitoring console hardwired to Sub-C by the dry entrance.

"Sub-C's destination attained." Nav-Com chirped, turning its boxlike head about to look at its passengers. Dr. Jones rested a hand on the pilot droid's shoulder, sighing.

"Nav-Com, begin power recharge from harbor circuit."

"Affirmative…" Nav-Com replied, silently activating the necessary functions. Outside, an infared guided socket arm extended from the side of the sub, bending up before moving slowly towards the weatherproofed power box. "Note; recharge will take three hours."

"That'll work." Dr. Jones nodded. "We'll be leaving for Howduyadocola tomorrow morning, Nav-Com. Set the itinerary to reflect that."

In the second seat, Mike hunched down and leaned his head into his arms. "You're sure we can't just leave tonight?"

"I'm afraid not." Dr. Jones replied calmly, stepping out towards the hatch. "As much as you seem to want to…getting cold feet on me?"

"I'm just not sure if I want to face this." Mike stood up, closing his eyes.

"Butterflies in your stomach?" His Uncle asked, stepping up on the first rung.

"Heh…feels more like a hornet's nest." Mike chuckled weakly.

"Understandable." Steve Jones harrumphed, grabbing at the hatch out of Sub-C. Turning the wheel about with several cranks of his strong hand, he grunted for a moment. "But in my experience, Mike…I've always found that the only way I could ever move on was to face things head on."

"You told me something like this before already." Mike corrected his relative. Uncle Steve smiled at that as he finished opening the hatch and popped it open with a hiss of air.

"Then I suppose that means I really want you to pay attention to the lesson now, doesn't it?" Dr. Jones chuckled a bit before climbing out. "You can stay in Sub-C as long as you like…but it isn't leaving until tomorrow, so it won't do you any good. Just talk to her. That's the only way that you'll be able to figure out one way or another what you're going to do for the rest of your time here."

"…It's that easy, huh?" Mike called out after his Uncle, his voice shaky. Dr. Jones kept quiet, stepping out of the sub and out of earshot.

Nav-Com turned towards Mike, his optics zooming into focus. "Communication is a necessary component to optimal relations." The robot offered, chirping what little semblance of advice it was capable of.

Mike ran a hand over his eyes, shaking his head. "Nav-Com, shut up."

"That command is invalid. Please specify."

The Seattle native walked towards the hatch, grabbing onto the ladder and climbing his way out.

"Forget it, bub." He chastised himself. "She's a Princess, and you're…"

_You're what, Mike? Just what are you?_

He turned to the water as he climbed onto the roof of Sub-C, staring down into his reflection. He saw a boy unsure of himself staring back, one whose heart screamed a truth the rest of him could not rectify.

"I'm me." Mike said dully. "No matter what else happens…I'm me."

He looked at his reflection again. "And…no matter what...I can't lie to myself."

_I love her._

He blinked. A part of him still disbelieved he'd said that, so he ran it again. "I love her."

A part of his tension drained away as he said it, bringing relief and incredulous euphoria along with it. He brought his hand into a fist, staring at it. "I love Mica."

Not Princess Mica. Not heir to the throne of Argonia. Just a girl.

Just a girl he hadn't been able to stop thinking about since he'd first met her.

He tilted his head back, smiling. As if chains long kept around his chest had suddenly vanished, he drew in a breath, tasting the air's sweetness for the first time since he'd left.

He didn't know what Mica would say. He didn't know how she felt. But last night, he was the only person she turned to…And for that, he felt as though there was something worth holding onto.

Perhaps there was something more than they had both once given their relationship credit for. But this was getting him nowhere.

He turned back around, eyes glimmering with newfound focus. He had to see her.

His head turned northwards inside of the cavern, staring at the exit that led into the rest of his uncles' home.

Beyond there, he felt something pulling him in. A familiar stretch of shore they both shared…

"She'll be there." He said quietly, hope burning in his heart. "She'll be there."

He took off running.

Further inside the mansion, Dr. Jones ventured into the kitchen, glancing about. "Baboo? Giskard?"

"I'm right here, Doctor Jones." Giskard called out. When the archaeologist found him, the boy was staring intently at the journals, his usually dour eyes flickering with a half crazed light.

"You found something?"

"No…" Giskard replied slowly, shutting his eyes and looking up at Dr. Jones with amazement. "_You_ found something. Something I don't rightly understand myself…something that needs explaining."

"But the cipher; the script? You understand them?"

"The cipher…" Giskard began, shaking his head after a moment. "It's a jumble of both modern Argonian, which was the part I'm assuming you _could_ translate, as well as ancient Argonian and something else entirely. The ancient is intertwined so fully with the unknown code I couldn't help you any there." He pounded his fist on the open notebook, an honest grin appearing on his face as the thrill of a new discovery went through him. "But this…You were right all along, Doctor. It wasn't just coincidence that brought us here; Hirocon didn't just dump us on Earth because it was far away and filled with a nurturing environment and a growing civilization of its own…"

Dr. Jones sat down next to Giskard, looking as the boy pushed the notebook between them. "This…is all ancient Argonian. All it was used for when we were back home was for ceremonies, formal oaths…very limited occasions. Most people only memorized the necessary lines and stuck with those, because learning it all was a complicated mess."

"But what does it say?" Dr. Jones urged, his voice rising. "What does it mean?"

Giskard cleared his throat, then began slowly. "_Ularij mahk har…Trokaz muk'h Ellinor."_ Giskard looked at Dr. Jones. "Roughly translated…Here the children of the stars came; Here, the explorers of the Starseer found one at the darkness."

Dr. Jones blinked. "But…what does that mean?"

Giskard closed the notebook and pushed it to the archaeologist, shaking his head. "Your guess is as good as mine…Argonian records never were the best about anything involving immediate concern, and this is something I never was aware of before. It could be anything, really…" Giskard leaned in next to Dr. Jones, his eyes glinting. "…But whatever it is, this is something important to us, as well as you. And I want to come with."

Dr. Jones blinked in surprise. "What?"

"Take me with you." Giskard pleaded. "The Coralcolans…They mean well, I know they do…but I've gone too long without being challenged, too long without something to keep my mind occupied. This awoke something in me, and now I can't stop thinking about it."

"Well, Sub-C is a two person vehicle, is all…" Dr. Jones said calmly. "Mike and I were going to go together, but if you can find some way to convince him…"

At that very moment, Mike came dashing by. "Mike!" Giskard called out loudly. The boy halted midstep and turned to face the two. "What?" Dr. Jones' nephew asked, seeming unfocused.

"I think I may be able to help Doctor Jones on his expedition…But I'd have to take your place. Would that be all right?"

Dr. Jones looked at his nephew, unsure what the boy's response would be.

Mike nodded his head. "Sure, Giskard. I…Don't think I'll be running anymore." Mike ran a hand through his hair. "I've got a lot of things to do around here…and some people to talk to anyhow. Take my spot, and help out my Uncle as much as you can."

"Considering this boy's talent for linguistics, and his familiarity with his peoples' old tongue…I'd say he's going to be a tremendous help." Dr. Jones replied, shaking his head. "To think I had such a powerful tool underneath my nose this entire time…Incredible, just incredible. Giskard, you've got to learn to speak up more."

"I didn't have anything important to say before." Giskard shrugged, still grinning. "Now…I guess I do."

Mike nodded at that, then turned and took off running out of the house. Giskard looked after him as he ran off, frowning. "Now where's he off to in such a hurry?"

Dr. Jones clucked and put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "He's not the only person who has something important to say. But never you mind about that. Why don't we keep working on this for a while? The more we have translated out of my books before we leave, the better. Have you eaten dinner yet? Mike grabbed a bite in Sub-C earlier, but I'm feeling famished myself." Dr. Jones stood up and walked over to the refrigerator.

Giskard let his head fall to the side. "Well, actually…I never did cook those instant noodles you said I could have. I've been kind of busy looking through this stuff." He motioned towards the abandoned ramen sitting on the counter.

Dr. Jones looked at the supply, smiled, and then opened up the cupboard to take out two more packages. "You know, that doesn't sound too bad at all. You keep reading, Giskard, and I'll make us some dinner."

"Works for me, Doctor."

"Just call me doc." Dr. Jones chuckled. "You'll make me nervous otherwise."

Giskard opened one of the notebooks back up and began to look through it, his eyes darting from line to line. "Doc, eh? This could turn out to be the start of something very enlightening."

"The phrase is 'this could be the beginning of a wonderful relationship', Giskard." Dr. Jones replied with a laugh.

Giskard didn't bother offering another reply, once again too engrossed in the pages before him.

Dr. Jones couldn't help but smile at that; Giskard seemed all too much like he had been once.

* * *

Mica sat in the island shaman's cabin, blankets pulled up around her shoulders. She had tried sleeping, only to find she couldn't. Bana had given her a knowing look when she'd come in, face streaked with tears and her world shattered. The woman, bless her soul, hadn't bothered her since then.

Mica pulled her knees up to her chest, looking down at her feet. It had taken her a while to stop crying, but the desire to hadn't left her. Eventually, she'd simply run out of tears, and that had been enough.

Bana stepped back inside the hut, carrying a hollowed out bowl made of coconut shell with steaming liquid inside of it. The shaman walked over to Mica and sat down next to the girl, offering the bowl. "I thought you might be thirsty, so I brought you some tea."

Mica took the bowl into her hands and took a tentative sip, a sweet taste hitting the back of her throat and causing her to drink more. Bana smiled and put her hand on the girl's shoulder. "Not so fast now; it's hot."

"What's in it?"

"Honey." Bana explained. "I find that a little honey does wonders to make such a drink go down easier."

"It does." Mica said gratefully. "Thank you, Bana."

Bana exhaled a long breath, almost as if yawning. "I do only what any concerned person would." She squeezed Mica's shoulder. "And you needed some comforting."

Mica finished the tea off and handed the bowl back, her face as dull as it had been when Bana had come in. "You…you were right all along, Bana."

Bana closed her eyes. "Child, there are days I wish I wasn't. This day, especially…"

"No, you can't help it." Mica snuffled, shaking her head. "Your insight is a talent, not a curse. I just wasn't willing to believe…That Ezilian was like that."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Mica stated. "It's better this way…Better that I now know where his heart lies than before the day of maturation."

"Why is that?"

"He was to be my husband." Mica uttered coldly. "When I was to turn 18…he and I would wed, to ensure that the line of Sellarus was carried on."

Bana folded her arms. "Really now." She said, not as much of a question as it was an invitation for Mica to take the explanation at her own pace.

"But that can't happen now. He had been pursuing Amethyst ever since we got here. If he's that unfaithful…if he never cared at all about the vows we had to take when we were little, and it was all just some game to him, a way for him to gain power, then I can't allow it."

"So you've severed ties with him then?"

"In my mind, I have." Mica said quietly, closing her eyes. "It's…making it real that will cause problems. Everyone else has an expectation that I'll fulfill that role. Ezilian counted on it."

Despite herself, another tear came forth, fueled by the tea Bana had just given her. In an instant, the old shaman had pulled the girl into a comforting hug.

"I'm sorry it turned out so badly…"

"You knew, didn't you?" Mica sniffed.

"I knew there was something in his spirit that put me ill at ease, if that's what you mean." Bana replied. "I did not know what form it would take, though. I just tried to warn you…"

"…And I was too stubborn to listen to you."

"No, not to me." Bana corrected the girl. "Your heart."

Mica pulled away from the shaman, blinking at her. "My heart was unsure about Ezilian. Now it is. I never loved him, and I won't allow myself to be married to a man who can't stay faithful."

The witch doctor crossed her arms, looking expectantly at the girl. Mica frowned, unsure. "What?"

"I just thought you might like to know something before you go off and think that all your doubts are resolved." Bana said. "Dr. Jones and Mike returned home not long ago…And Mike's staying."

Mica felt a familiar ache in her heart start to pound away, and she climbed out of the bed, shrugging off the blankets. "Why?"

"Well, Giskard is taking his place on Sub-C. It seems your grouchy friend can be of some use to the doctor in his pursuits. But as for Mike…No, I think there's more reason to his decision to stay here than simply giving Giskard his seat."

Mica looked towards the door. "You think? Or you know?"

"You know, Mica." The shaman chuffed. "What I know isn't the issue here; it's what you're aware of, yet refuse to accept."

Mica covered her eyes with a hand. "It's not that simple."

"I know one thing is for certain." Bana commented. "It won't get any easier if you just try to avoid him by hiding in here all day."

"It won't get any harder, either." Mica retorted, moving towards the window and folding her arms over her chest.

Bana sighed and moved to her chair, resting back into the creaking wood. "Just what are you so afraid of? Him?"

"No." Mica said quietly.

"Of what the others might think if you started listening to your heart?"

"No."

"Then why won't you go talk to him?"

"Because…" Mica began haltingly, fingers curling and uncurling against her arm. "…Because if my own feelings are as justified as his…"

She bowed her head, unable to finish the sentence.

Calmly, Bana shut her eyes and began to go through her meditative exercises, readying herself. "I must prepare myself to receive the message of the stars now, Mica. Whatever you do is your own concern…I've said as much as I can."

Slowly, Bana's breathing crept to a crawl, and the tautness in her muscles relaxed as she reached a place between dreams and the waking world.

At the other end of the room, Mica opened up the curtain to Bana's window and peered outside, staring up at the falling sunset, and the flush of stars against nightshade that followed it.

"I'm surrounded by people who want nothing more than to make me feel at ease…and I'm still alone."

Mica's eyes glimmered as she looked up towards the stars in the southern cross. "Mom…what should I do?"

* * *

_Coralcola Island: North Shore_

_June 26__th__, 1990 A.D._

_9:38 P.M._

Mike didn't know how long ago he'd run out here. His mind, once frantic and now just lost in reflection, had long ago given up on trying to figure out how long he'd been here as well. But it had been long enough for the sun to set and for the stars to bristle in their opening flurry.

He sat on a piece of driftwood on the northern shore; the same chunk of flotsam he had been to countless times before. He could recall how it had begun; Princess Mica had found it first, and Mike second, shortly after the nightmares of Zoda began to affect him. At first, the two had opted for silence. Not long ago, they finally began chipped and short conversation, Mike trying to strike up small talk and the Princess deflecting it at every turn.

And then…breakthrough. Mike had dropped his own shields, left himself open to her, and she'd responded in kind. After that came genuine conversation…smiles…and laughter.

Mike closed his eyes. He should have seen it coming long ago, but he hadn't. Ever since he'd laid eyes on her, something in the way she held herself, her innate grace, had struck a chord in him. He'd realized only last night what it had meant, and he still cursed himself for it.

All his doubts, all his fears, and all his problems aside, he found solace in her presence. And he had known, if he didn't tell her, that nothing good could come from ignoring it.

But that had been hours ago, really…News traveled fast on Coralcola, and surely their arrival wouldn't have gone unnoticed by the islanders or the Argonians. Certainly not Mica. He wanted answers. He wanted to know if Mica had really said everything Amethyst had babbled on about in the morning, if the Princess really felt that way. What hurt him was that Mike had thought he knew her better than anyone else…but if Amethyst had been telling the truth…

_Then it doesn't much matter what I feel then, does it?_

Quietly, Mike shut his eyes, the sadness and frustration of a day and the past hours at last reaching effect in him.

"I should have known better." He whispered bitterly.

Quiet footsteps began to approach him from behind, just barely audible above the slow roar of the ocean surf. Not like a boy's footprints, or a man's, which were straightforward and unafraid. Which meant it was a girl's, given the hushed volume. And Mike, with a sinking feeling in his chest, wagered he knew who it was.

Mike leaned his head onto his arms, opening his eyes and staring out into the odd mix of glimmering night and the reflective ocean. "Just leave me alone, Amethyst." Mike said quietly. "I heard you well enough this morning."

The footsteps stopped, and for a few moments, Mike believed the girl was thinking of whether or not to say something or just leave.

"If…Amethyst were here, she probably would leave you alone." Said a softer, sadder voice, unmistakably female. But not just any girl's voice…Stunned, Mike turned about, jumping to his feet.

Behind him stood Princess Mica Argos, wearing a set of faded blue jeans and a darker blue blouse. She looked back at him with a single tear running down her cheek, hands pulling at each other. "Welcome back, Mike."

"Mica, I…" Mike began, stumbling to recover from his shock. She raised her hand to quiet him, her long deep red hair waving in a sudden sea breeze.

"What…What Amethyst told you this morning…Those things she said I said…Weren't true. I never said anything like that." Mica stated steadfastly, a sudden tinge of anger rising in her. "Ezilian…he put her up to it."

"Your fiancée?" Mike queried, inwardly wincing at the term and its implications. "But how? Why?"

"It's no secret he doesn't enjoy your presence." Mica replied, blinking. "He sees you as a threat, to our ways and to his own plans. He used Amethyst…made her say those things. He's been wooing her ever since you freed us." She shook her head. "I only found that out today. Ezilian wanted you gone, Mike. Amethyst's conversation with you was his way of trying to make you leave."

"…He succeeded." Mike admitted, his voice a whisper. "Uncle Steve and I were on our way to his ruins when he decided to turn around and come back."

"…And you're not leaving? I heard something about Giskard going…"

"Giskard's taking my place." Mike confirmed. "He can be of more use to my Uncle Steve than I can…And I suppose he needed to get out of here even more than I did."

"…So you're not going then?"

Mike looked at Mica for a long moment, then shook his head back and forth in a motion designed to be noticed. "No."

Mica fought against the blush that his stare invoked, turning sideways. "Well…that's good then. It's all straightened out, and there's no confusion left. So I suppose, I'll see you tomorrow…" Mica turned to begin walking back towards the village, and had just extended her foot…

When a hand grasped onto her own, and kept her from escaping. Mica inhaled sharply, a small drawing of breath that wasn't quite a gasp, but nonetheless could be heard.

"Wait." Mike said quietly. "Just…please, don't go yet."

Mica turned to look at him, an unspoken tension glowing in her eyes from the starlight above.

"There's something I have to tell you…no, a lot of things I have to tell you." Mike corrected himself, shaking his head. "I'm glad you didn't say those things…A part of me didn't want to believe it, and I should have listened to it and stayed." He looked at her. "I'm sorry I did…but I'm not running anymore." He looked at her a moment longer before the two stared down at their hands, and Mica moved to pull her hand away.

Days ago, Mike would have done the same thing. But tonight, he gently held onto her, bringing his other hand up and clasping her other hand, ensnaring her close and forcing her to look at him. "Last night…Last night, when you were crying, and I was holding you, I realized something."

Mica closed her eyes, biting her lip. "Mike, I…"

"Just let me finish." Mike pleaded. "All day, I haven't really thought about anything else but this. Now. Us." He jumped from one word to the next, marveling at their feel. "I was afraid, Mica…afraid of what it meant, afraid of how I'd deal with it…but in the end, there was only one thing about it I was afraid of."

He took a step closer to her, lowering his voice. "And that was how much I'd regret it…if I didn't try to see if it was something you shared too."

Mica broke her hands free and turned around, trying to run off. "I can't stay, I've got to get back…"

"MICA!" Mike called out, as she cleared five paces. "_Mica, I love you_!!"

Mica could have kept running at anything else Mike could have said. Anything else.

But not that. Instantly, the pain in her chest blossomed outwards into every limb, causing her legs to freeze up and stop running in an instant. In an expression that Mike could no longer see, Mica's eyes tightened up into squints, and her jaw clamped in an attempt to stop the sudden desire to tremble.

"I love you." Mike repeated, walking towards her with exacting slowness. Her ears, long and slender and all too beautiful in the cool night air, seemed to crane backwards as she listened to his approach. "You don't know how long I've been waiting tonight for you to come…just so I could say that. I do, Mica."

Her head drooped against her chest, and the first tears appeared. _Run_, a voice screamed at her. _Run now, while you have the chance! Get away from him before…_

But Mica's feet weren't listening to that part of herself for once.

For a change…it was her heart that had taken control.

"It's been happening for a long time…I can see that now." Mike continued. "The way that you look in the morning…how you're as beautiful in the night as you are in the day? Icing on the cake. You care about people, and you always try to bring sunshine into the world around you, even while you don't allow yourself the same tendencies. Whenever I'm around you, all my problems and troubles don't seem as close…when I'm with you, I don't dream of Zoda, I don't think of being trapped on his spaceship or being torn apart or anything else just as horrible. Somehow, you make me feel above all that. The way you smile, the way you laugh, even the way you _breathe_ is a joy and a treasure that I keep with me every time I close my eyes. When I'm with you, Mica, I'm not afraid anymore. I'm not afraid of my nightmares."

At last, his footsteps reached a halt, and his warm, comforting hand came to rest on her shoulder, quietly caressing it. "No more secrets…you said that last night again. So I can't keep this one…I don't want to. I love you, God help me for better or worse…Even if you don't love me. But I don't think this is one sided, not by a longshot. And the reason I couldn't leave…the reason I won't, beyond having to tell you the truth about my heart…Is to ask if I'm crazy when I think that you might feel the same way."

Unable to stop herself, Mica let out a sob, trembling at long last. In an instant, Mike was in front of her, holding her by her shoulders and supporting her as she began to cry. His pleading eyes looked into her tearstreaked ones, begging for an answer.

"Oh, Mike…I can't…I just can't…"

Mike's fingers squeezed on her shoulders for a moment, then his hands moved up to gently brush away her tears and cup her face as she tried to compose herself. "Don't tell me that you can't. I don't care about Ezilian, I don't care about your betrothal! And if what you told me just now is any measure, you don't really care for your arranged marriage either! So don't tell me that you can't love me, don't hide behind that excuse. Tell me, Mica, from your _heart_…Tell me what it's whispering. Tell me that you don't feel for me the same way I feel about you!"

Inside of the Princess, a battle raged. One side of her knew, instinctively, that Mike was honest. That he wasn't lying, that he felt and cared for her as deeply as he said he did. That she always felt safer when he was around, comforted, serene somehow…

And then the other part told her she couldn't. For reasons only she could keep, for reasons that ate her apart and left her filled with fear and anguish, it screamed against everything else inside of her that it couldn't happen, it shouldn't happen…that it would bring nothing but pain.

But the first part was her heart…and the second, her mind.

At long last, Bana's words, repeated, re-emphasized, and boiled long inside the turbulent emotional waters of Mica's spirit hit home. At long last, Mica was willing to listen.

Choking back a sob, Mica mumbled a sentence under her breath, amazed she had even let it out. Mike looked at her, his eyes still asking. "What?"

Mica pulled his hands away from her face and pushed her tears aside, staring at him through eyes adorned with an emotion she thought she would never face.

"I said…I love you, too." She looked at him, biting her lower lip. "Nobody else cared enough to ask, to dig down deep enough and help me get through my problems. Nobody else would have been crazy enough, gallant enough to save us from Zoda. And I do feel safe when you're around…Safer than I've felt in a long time. But…"

"No buts." Mike interrupted her, his own eyes watering up then. "Just tell me again."

Mica looked at him, her heart pounding. "I love you."

Mica didn't know who moved first, Mike or her. But what she did know was that barely three seconds after she'd announced her feelings for the second time, the space between them was gone and they were locked in a kiss that drowned out all thought and left nothing but raw, hungry emotion.

Mica's mental control faded so badly that just as in the night before, she began broadcasting her feelings. But tied to Mike, holding each other tightly as their lips hungrily met, it was focused solely into him. To her surprise, she found that somehow, Mike was also channeling his feelings back into her.

Terror. Fear. Rejection. Euphoria. Exhilaration. Ecstasy.

Comfort. Consolation. Redemption.

Absolution.

In each other, they found all those emotions, but as their kiss continued and deepend, and Mike's hands came up around her face once more, fingers idly stroking her long and sensitive ears, they ended in one that wasn't as much a feeling…As it was a place.

The rest of the world vanished, their tears dried, and Mike and Mica became lost to each other and to a realm that their minds created together as they drifted in and out of the waking world.

In each other's arms, kissing on a long stretch of lonely beach on an island out in the middle of the Pacific, not wanting it to end…

The boy who would be the Starseer, and the Princess of Argonia found heaven.


	5. The Cosmic Interlude

_**STARTROPICS: FOLLOW THE SOUTHERN CROSS**_

By Eric 'Erico' Lawson

**CHAPTER FOUR: THE COSMIC INTERLUDE**

"_The Argonians were an unlikely bunch to traverse the stars; unlike other spacefaring cultures, they came not for riches, wealth, conquest or growth. This distinguished them from so many other countless travelers, so much so in fact that a name was given to these explorers of the galaxy which they were so infatuated with. In Argonian legend, a few names hold great importance. Sellarus, the Starseer, and Ellini are the most recognizable, but growing out of their shell, another became added to the annals. Carrying the might of the Argonian legacy into the stars, the __**Starseekers**__ would extend the knowledge and presence of Argonian culture and influence wherever it might flourish…Beyond that and the colonies of civilization spread and known to the public, the records of the Starseeker's lesser explorations remain sealed by royal decree, making one wonder…just what did that first generation of explorers find in some remote corner of the galaxy? More importantly, were their lesser known exploits hidden to allow some modicum of privacy…or was there something that they found out in the reach of the stars that they were trying to keep locked away?"_

Rylian Karashome, Argonian graduate student

* * *

_Coralcola Island_

_June 27__th__, 1990 A.D._

_7:01 A.M._

Sleep. Pure, unedited, untouched sleep. The kind of sleep that nothing, save a thunderbolt outside the window or somebody tickling your feet could wake you from early. That particular kind of sleep hadn't visited Dr. Jones' laboratory in a long time, but now it had.

Steve Jones smiled gently at the slumbering boy, sprawled out in his bed without a care in the world, soundlessly dreaming the morning away. He didn't know how many nights his nephew had been unable to catch the recommended amount of downtime, but he did know that seeing the boy actually accomplish it for a change was a welcome sight.

"Take care, nephew. Keep watch over things here while I'm gone." Dr. Jones said quietly. Mike made little indication he'd heard the voice, but that didn't matter to his uncle, who stepped back outside and closed the door behind him.

Giskard was already waiting in the kitchen, his hands fondling an object while his eyes read a scrap of paper with a hastily scribbled message on it. When Dr. Jones reached him, the boy had already inhaled breakfast; yet another dose of the instant noodles they'd feasted on the night before in their quest to decode more of the messages inside of the archaeologists' notebooks.

"Good morning, Giskard." Dr. Jones said kindly, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "Ready to go?"

"I was born ready." Giskard replied, his eyes not looking up from the page.

The archaeologist took a sip of his drink. "What do you have there?"

"Something from Mike…He apparently thought I might need it." Giskard opened his hand up, revealing a bright red yo-yo that the good doctor had seen before.

Dr. Jones lifted an eyebrow. "That's Mike's island yo-yo…the one that the chief gave him, as I recall."

Giskard pushed the note across the table, still marveling at the object in his hands. Glancing through his thick bifocals, Steve found the last message Mike had left for them before turning in for bed.

_Giskard-_

_This little wonder's pulled me through more than one scrap in my own journeys. I want you to have it when you and my Uncle go on your own; maybe you'll be able to keep him out of trouble for a change._

_ -Mike_

"So that's it then." Dr. Jones exhaled, folding the note up. "It appears the yo-yo has been passed on to you."

"Momentarily." Giskard noted, slipping his middle finger through the loop. "The note seemed to imply the loan wasn't permanent. But do you really think we'll need it?"

Dr. Jones shrugged. "It helped my nephew a lot in his travels…even without any monsters or dangers from the alien's influence to face, it may bring us a great deal of good luck. And I'm always up for that."

Giskard mulled over that in his head for a bit, then threw it up into the air with a backhand slide he'd seen the Jones boy do many a time.

It seemed to hang in midair forever.

* * *

_June 28__th__, 1990 A.D_

_10:47 A.M._

The yo-yo finished its freespin and snapped back crisply into Giskard's waiting hand, the slap of polished hardwood against skin a firm reminder of the destructive power it was capable of unleashing in the right hands. The Argonian boy shook his head at it, pulling the loop from his middle finger and sliding it back into his pants pocket.

He glanced up at the sun, cresting in its morning arc. "Huh. Already, eh?" His vision came back from the bright orb of heat and light, staring along the horizon…

It had taken him a while to get used to the sight of nothing but open sea, but once he'd made it past that obstacle, their first day out had been uneventful. While Nav-Com drove at his own version of a leisurely pace, Dr. Jones and Giskard had been free to look over the archaeologists' field notebooks again, Giskard able and eagerly willing to translate. Of course, the doctor had made certain allowances for frivolous activities such as naps for himself, and topside ocean gazing for his new co-explorer. This was one such break, and Giskard had learned to appreciate them. His mind was beginning to feel more active these days, old synapses about his Argonian language not fired for weeks at long last brought to the forefront.

He frowned and stared a little harder; he could just begin to make out the faint outline of some sort of landmass in the distance, and they were rapidly speeding towards it. "I didn't think we'd make it there this fast…" Giskard mused, opening the hatch to Sub-C's interior and climbing down the ladder.

"Doctor Jones, we're coming up on some land." Giskard announced, halfway down the ladder. The archaeologist had his nose buried in a book written by an Earth author by the name of Tom Clancy; Some work of fiction or other. The man pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and glanced at the boy.

"Yes? So?"

"I didn't think we'd make it to Howduyadocola this fast, is all." Giskard stated flatly.

The archaeologist chuckled a bit and put a bookmark into his thriller. "Good heavens, no. We're still half a day out yet from there…but I can understand the confusion. We're coming up on the island of Bellcola right now, which is not far from Howduyadocola and the island maze. That's the landmass you're seeing."

"Huh." Giskard said, shrugging. "My apologies for bothering you then."

The archaeologist looked at his watch, harrumphing. "That late already? I could have sworn it was only 9:30…well, this may actually be a good thing. It's been a while since I visited Chief Bellcola anyways, and I'll just bet, Giskard, that they'd be willing to spot us some lunch."

Giskard's face brightened at that. "You mean an actual lunch? As opposed to this stuff we've been eating?"

Dr. Jones blushed a bit at the comment. "Yes, yes…I do suppose it takes a while to get used to prepackaged meals. They keep the longest, though, which is why I have them. But yes, lunch." The doctor turned and tapped Nav-Com on the shoulder, prompting the robot to turn its head about and blink at him.

"How may I assist you, Dr. Jones?" The robot chirped.

"Make an addendum to our course, Nav-Com. We'll be stopping at Bellcola for lunch."

"…Layover at Bellcola. Course laid in. Confirm?"

"Confirm." Dr. Jones smiled.

"…Affirmative. Sub-C will be arriving at Bellcola within thirty-five minutes at cruising speed." Nav-Com said.

"The miracles of modern technology." Dr. Jones said, pulling his glasses off and cleaning them with his thumb. "It should be interesting to see how they're all doing."

"Why? Would things change much in the few weeks it's been?"

"Not to them." Dr. Jones replied, easing back in his seat and picking his book back up.

"How's that?"

"Time in these islands…its moves at its own pace." Dr. Jones answered, a satisfied glow coming to his face. "I don't know if you can make much of a distinction, but…well, like Mike, I'm used to cities and large masses of people. Coming out here, it's easier to lose yourself. To me, a few weeks can be a long time…but to these people, who live by the old clock made by the planet? A drop in the bucket. It's just different out here, is all."

Giskard thought about that for a moment, his dull expression returning. "No wonder I had to get off of Coralcola."

Dr. Jones laughed at that, and despite himself, Giskard cracked a small smile.

It seemed a good way to conclude a trip.

* * *

_Coralcola Island_

_11:01 A.M._

Out in the harbor of Coralcola, the fishermen in their boats were having a difficult time netting the big catches they were so accustomed to. Not that they were worried about starving; the bounty of the sea was great within the sacred boundaries of the islands of the southern cross, as they had always been. Still, it was annoying, and every so often, the source of the fish's perturbance would splash far too close to their boats and nets for comfort, even spraying them with salty water once or twice. When that happened, they would turn and shout some halfhearted threats and grumblings at the two people on the shore.

It had been a few minutes since the last big splashdown; Baboo figured it was finally safe to start pulling in his net. Leaning down low in the boat to not disturb it, he reeled in his lines, grinning at the two fish, long and fat, wriggling in his trap. He reached his hand down, ready to grasp ahold of them under their gills and slap them into his catch bucket on the boat…

Only to have a grapefruit sized object slam down inches away from his hand, plunging the net's bulk downwards and allowing his fish to escape. To add insult to injury, the splash from the projectile nailed him directly in the face, causing him to sputter and rub furiously at his eyes before he turned back towards the laboratory nearby and shook his fist. "BLAST YOU, MIKE!!"

On the shore of the laboratory's jutting outcrop, Mike slung the baseball bat over his shoulder and put his other hand up above his eyes, shading them to get a better view. "Did you see where that one went?"

Marlin guffawed, lightly tossing a rounded and hardened juvenile coconut shell from one hand to the other. "From the looks of it, you nailed Baboo with the backblast. Nice hit, Mike."

The Seattle native allowed himself a grin, taking in a long whiff of the salty sea air. "It was a good pitch too. You're really starting to improve here, you know that? I was just saying that before, but I felt some heat off of that last one."

"Aah, stoppit." Marlin retorted, hefting his next pitch. "Let's see if you're still as conciliatory when I strike you out!"

"You just try it, Marl." Mike shot back, readying his batting stance. "We'll see who's still the master here."

Their eyes met, Mike's fingers gripping around the shaft of his Louisville Slugger and Marlin carefully twirling the coconut about in his hands to find the best grip.

Then came the pitch…the swing…and the unmistakable whiff of a missed ball.

The coconut flew on, but the two boys looked at each other, and Marlin cracked a grin. "Strike one."

It finally hit the ground, bouncing along in the fine white sand until it came to a halt at somebody's feet. Mike, turned around as he was, didn't notice the motion. Marlin glanced up and finally stood erect, his former grin replaced by an open smile. "Hey, Mica!"

Mike blinked a few times, but pulled himself out of his batting stance and turned around.

Standing in her sunfaded red dress, Mica rolled the coconut baseball along the bottom of her sandal, shaking her head at them as she smiled back. "Don't you two ever give up?"

"Oh, you know Marlin." Mike replied, scratching at the back of his head. "If he isn't cracking a joke, he's trying to crack my record."

"For what? Number of swings needed to hit the broadside of a barn?" Mica jested, walking up to him and punching him lightly in the arm. Marlin guffawed at the gesture, and even Mike couldn't help but smile. "Say Marlin, I need to talk to Mike for a bit. Would you mind if I borrowed him?"

"It's all right with me, Princess Mica." Marlin shrugged. "At this point, he's here to cheer me on more than anything."

"Oh, is that so?" Mike asked, lifting an eyebrow. "I don't suppose you could pitch to yourself and try lobbing some out into the harbor for a while then?" To finish his statement, Mike hefted his bat at the boy, who caught it easily.

Marlin stared at it for a bit, then held it in one hand and picked up another coconut with ease in the other. Throwing his coconut baseball up into the air, the Argonian quickly switched his hands into his batting grip and took a powerful swing at it. With a resounding crack, the coconut flew straight out for seventy five feet and splashed into the harbor. Satisfied, Marlin turned back to Mike and gave him a thumbs up. "Get outta here, coach. I'll be fine."

Mike beamed at him. "That's my guy. Well, come on Mica. I was feeling thirsty anyhow, so you might as well join me for some water in the kitchen."

"Sounds like a plan." Mica said easily.

Inside the kitchen, Mike reached up to the cabinet and pulled down two glasses, moving over to the sink. "So what did you need to talk to me about, Mica?" He asked, turning the tap on.

In response, he felt Mica come up from behind him and wrap her arms around his stomach, leaning her head on his shoulder. He jumped for a moment, but relaxed and sunk into her hug.

"Just thought I'd say good morning the right way." Mica whispered, a coy tone seeping into her voice.

Mike laughed a bit at that, recovering enough to finish pouring the waters. "It's appreciated. Did you sleep well?"

"Haven't had a nightmare since…"

"Since two days ago?"

"…Yeah."

"Funny thing…I haven't had a nightmare since…well, then, either." Mike began, cutting himself off in embarrassment soon after. "It's nice to finally be able to sleep again."

He turned himself around, kissing her on the nose before handing her one of the glasses of water. "Thank you."

Mica took the glass in her hands and stepped back from him, taking a long draw. "For what I don't know…but you're welcome all the same."

Mike finished half of the glass off and ran an arm across his forehead. "Marlin's starting to give me a real workout now. His pitching skills are shaping up, but he's got a natural talent for swinging the bat; more than I have, really."

"Is that such a bad thing?" Mica smiled, taking a step back and glancing him over. "You can't be the best at everything."

"So what's on your mind?" Mike asked, setting his glass to the side and looking at her. "You seemed a little nervous when you came by today."

Mica's jawline tensed up a bit, and she exhaled. "Yes, I suppose I am…It's just Ezilian, is all."

Mike blinked, leaning up against the counter. "What's going on?"

"He's been quiet ever since I discovered him with Amethyst two nights ago." Mica mused, her voice growing shy. "I can't help but get the feeling he's planning something."

The Seattle native frowned at that, tapping his fingers against the side of the countertop. "Let him plan. He's already played his cards, and ruined it for himself."

"He brought our arrangement to annulment, yes…" Mica nodded unsteadily, "But he was never thrilled at the prospect of you…with me."

"Tell me about it." Mike grumbled. "At least he's stayed out of my way since I got back; that's made life easier. For the both of us."

Mica bit her lip. "…Maybe he was right, though. About you and me."

Mike's frown deepened. "…Mica, what are you saying?"

The Princess shook her head. "…Ezilian is stubborn. He's manipulative, conniving, and always looking to advance his interests. But…if the others knew…I don't know how they'd take it."

Mike mulled over that in his head. "…Who do you think, outside of Ezilian, has a good idea?"

"…Giskard knew, just by looking at me." Mica admitted. "And Amethyst…she's Ezilian's chosen, so she'd know. But the others…probably not."

"So that just narrows down your concern to Rozlyn, Bakusian, and Marlin." Mike surmised. "I don't think Rozlyn would be too upset myself…she seems too young to understand that sort of thing in the first place. Bakusian? I don't know. But Marlin…no, he takes things in stride."

"…All the same, I still worry…"

"Just what are you afraid of?" Mike pressed, concern growing in his voice as he walked over to her and set his hands on her shoulders. "What the others think? Let them think what they will, they might surprise you. Don't worry about them. Beyond that, just what are you afraid of?"

Mica bit her lip, stubbornly silent.

"Tell me." Mike pleaded.

"…Nothing." Mica finally said, brushing her hair out of her eyes. "Just irrational doubts and fears."

Mike drew her into a hug, leaning her head against his shoulder. "Thanks to you, I no longer worry about my nightmares. As long as I'm here, I'll protect you from yours."

It was so easy for Mica to melt back into the embrace Mike held her in. She closed her eyes and hugged him back, her elfin ears blocking out everything else but the soothing presence of his heartbeat.

Somewhere in the back of her head, a familiar dark laugh tried to assert itself.

She blocked it out with the pounding of Mike's heart, and pulled him closer. Hoping…praying…

That she was wrong.

* * *

In the gigantic hut of the Island Chief, Hapo Omoy sat nervously on a makeshift weight scale, staring at the jagged rock needle that pointed to the center balance. Absentmindedly, a hand rubbed at his protruding belly, trying to ignore its baleful calls. "Well?" He asked nervously. "Do I pass?"

"In time, dear brother." Bana replied, her piercing eyes glancing back at her sibling before she looked back to the scale. "When we began, you measured at twenty eight stones…The spirits will not be sated until you make twenty five at least." She glanced over at the other end of the scale, shaking her head as it refused to balance out with twenty five rounded beach stones of similar size resting in the other sides' basket. With a hint of frustration, she picked up another stone and dumped it into the load, watching it swing down a bit farther, yet still refuse to go even. Another one, bringing the total to twenty seven, proved just as ineffective.

With a very audible harrumph, she tossed on the twenty-eighth stone and balanced the scale at last. "Twenty-eight." She said bitterly. "Well, I can see you've made no improvement at all."

Redfaced, Hapo climbed down from the scale's basket, standing upright as the stones sank to the floor with an audible thump. "I…suppose that means I'm still on the diet then."

Sighing in disgust, Bana stomped towards the door, pausing at the dining table to pick up a loose tropical carrot and chuck it at him. He caught it just before it could bounce off of his nose and leave a bruise. "Just so you know, I take to this diet under protest!" He called out after her. She paid him little mind, and continued to stomp off.

The Island Chief sighed, walking over to his ceremonial chair and collapsing into it. He paused for a moment, looking at the carrot he still had in his hand. "She may be able to talk to the spirits, but I doubt that they told her my waistline was a problem." He looked at the carrot for a moment, then scoffed at it. "All these years later, and she still tries to boss me around." Angrily, he bit into the vegetable, gnawing at it in an attempt to vent his frustrations.

A head poked in through the curtain that served as the door for his prestigious hut. Baboo blinked a few times, then looked inside. "Am I disturbing you, Chief Omoy?"

Hapo swallowed down his mouthful of carrot and waved him in with the bitten off vegetable. "Not at all, Baboo. Come in and have a seat."

"Thank you." Baboo noted gratefully, walking in and leaning himself back into one of the chairs at the dining table nearby. He looked about for a bit, then stared at the makeshift scale that Bana had fashioned. "Well, it seems you had to do another weigh-in today. How did that go?"

"Horrible, according to our great shaman." Hapo grumbled, taking another bite of his carrot. "It's going to take some time to lose as much weight as she wants me to."

"Well, at least she put an end to your snacking." Baboo chuckled. "I heard about your little deal with Bakusian that she discovered."

The Island Chief looked shocked. "How did you hear about that?"

"Oh, the entire village was talking about it at dinner yesterday." Baboo explained, leaning on an arm. "We found it quite funny…nonetheless, your sister is bound and determined to see you go through with this."

"There are no secrets on this little island." Hapo complained, shaking his head. "There are days I really do get annoyed by that."

"You get bothered easily." Baboo pointed out. "Is what why you overeat?"

He gained an aggravated look for his troubles. "Was there a reason for your visit, or did you come to poke fun at me all day?" Hapo inquired, his impatience apparent.

"…Well, I'm certain I had a reason back when I started." Baboo began, scratching at his head. "…Oh, as long as I'm here... I was going to ask if you might talk to Mike about cutting back on the baseball practice when we're trying to fish."

"Why?" Hapo asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"His version of batting practice is scaring the fish out of the harbor. It's also using up a lot of coconuts."

The Island Chief chuckled at that. "Still training Marlin, is he? He shows remarkable vigor and dedication for a boy his age."

"Do you say that because of what he did to save his uncle and the Argonians, or the baseball practice?"

"Both, of course." Hapo shrugged. "Or neither. It doesn't matter, really. Still, I feel as though the Argonians are settling in well these days."

"Well, they do have each other…and they have Mica to look up to." Baboo mentioned, rubbing at his chin. "That must help them. I've heard good things from the villagers about them, also. Teycho has been taking care of Bakusian, for instance, and that boy has found a talent in cooking."

"It's a good talent to have." Hapo agreed. He looked at Baboo for a moment, then smiled and shook his head. "And the others…You hear good things about them as well, I assume?"

"Of course." Baboo nodded. "Mica, especially. Some of our boys have grown quite fond of her, and they do love to talk."

Hapo laughed a little at that, his belly quivering from the effort. "Aah, to be young." He finally spoke, exhaling with a wistful sigh. "The spirits must be treating us well these days for such a blessing."

"Maybe." Baboo replied, standing back up and shaking his hair out again, his eyes distant. "I don't know myself, but…"

The Island Chief glanced at the young man, lifting an eyebrow. "What makes you say that, Baboo?"

Baboo stood at the window of the hut, pushing the curtain aside. He stared out past the village, up into the pristine blue skies above. "I just remembered why I came in to talk to you. Things have been wonderful so far…Our village prospers, and the Argonians have fit in well. But something didn't feel right this morning when I sailed out into the bay today."

Baboo clenched his free hand into a fist, rolling it about and staring at it. "The winds have changed, Chief Omoy." He said quietly. "A storm is coming."

To that, Hapo fell silent, a familiar dread rising up in him. To his people, nothing was a worse omen than the coming of a storm.

"It's going to be a big one, too." Baboo finished dully, walking towards the doorway and pushing the reed mat aside. "You might warn the others."

"I shall do so." Hapo answered, lowering his head. Baboo excused himself and walked out of the hut, going back to his business.

Hapo closed his eyes for a moment, folding his hands and burying his head in them.

Storms were common out in the ocean…but the last serious squall had been only seven years ago. His parents had died in that tragedy.

And with his initial good humor now forgotten, an uneasy feeling dipped into his heart, making the Chief wonder if this time, it wouldn't claim something even more precious.

* * *

Mica leaned back in the sand on the beach, sprawled out and reveling in the feeling of the sun beating down against her legs and arms. A massive straw hat protecting her face from the sun's blinding rays, she stretched her arms up above her head, pushing them through the pure white sand, sighing in contentment. "This is nice." She finally said.

Mike, smiling as he sat beside her, one knee drawn up against his chest as he perched his chin on it and stared out over the harbor, harrumphed in agreement. "Now this is why I came here. To get a tan and go fishing."

"Then where's your fishing pole?" Mica joked.

"Already went fishing." Mike chuckled, reaching his hand down to touch hers. "Or have you forgotten how you beat me not long ago?"

"Oh, I haven't forgotten that in the least." Mica giggled. She pulled her hand away from his, lifting her hat enough to stick her tongue out at him before hiding again.

Mike pretended to be offended at the gesture for a moment, but couldn't help but break out into a smile. "I'm glad to see you're feeling better." He continued, looking out towards the water again. "You've really opened up a lot since we first met."

"Points for persistence." She replied easily, shaking her head. "Not many people are as crazy as you to try to get me to open up."

"Somebody needed to." Mike answered back, idly flexing his toes inside of his tennis shoe. "Keeping too much bottled up is never a smart policy. And you had a lot to talk about…and you needed someone to listen."

"And there you were." Mica agreed. "You really are crazy."

"Crazy?" Mike chuckled, lifting an eyebrow. "Now that's one I haven't heard before. Although…who knows. Maybe I am going crazy. It's not every day I have an alien who speaks directly to my mind."

The pause settled between them, Mica taking a moment to realize that it was Zoda that Mike was referring to. "He's your nightmare, isn't he?"

"Was." Mike replied softly, shaking his head. "Not anymore, not with you here."

She closed her eyes at that, still hiding underneath her hat.

"…But one thing does bother me." Mike added, pursing his lips. "When I fought him, I could feel his thoughts grating on the inside of my skull. And twice now, with you…I've gotten a similar feeling. Zoda tried to give me a headache, but with you…" He turned his face around to glance at her, reaching down and lifting the brim of her hat up to stare into her eyes. "…With you, it didn't hurt. But I could still feel you. Yet…that's impossible. You can't feel a person…can you?"

Mica pursed her lips for a moment, finally shaking her head and laughing weakly. "Nothing gets by you, does it?" She sat up, yawning as she did after being relaxed for so long. "It is possible, Mike. It's our greatest secret, the thing we've tried to keep hidden. We Argonians do have a power that you don't possess, and we take care to not abuse it."

"What is it?"

"We call it _Shilivre_." Mica answered, curling and uncurling her fingers as she talked. "It's the power that the Starseer used to defeat the Star Devils in our ancient legends. It's also the power that was carried down through Sellarus' line, and eventually spread into some of the Argonians. With it, we can force our will on the nature of the world itself, communicate over vast distances, and never be alone. It can also be used to fight…but that tradition is one not often taught."

"So…every Argonian has this 'Shivre'?" Mike asked, scratching at his head. Mica giggled at that.

"No, Mike…Shilivre. And every Argonian has it...Just not everyone can use it." She sighed. "The Argonians are all responsive to Shilivre, but innate talent is something else entirely. The royal line has always been strong in it, and those families who found that they could also use it with some measure of success became the nobles. They come and go, and on rare occasion, somebody unexpected finds that they can use it as well." Mica pursed her lips for a moment, then shook her head. "Ezilian...He was from the house of Ranuforte, and it had been set up a long time ago that he would marry me. To keep the line intact and the power strong."

"Heh. Are you still going to marry him?" Mike asked unsteadily. Mica leveled a slightly annoyed gaze back at him in response before shaking her head.

"You can ask the stupidest questions some days." Mica commented.

"Sorry, I'll try to stop that." He replied with a blush. She giggled again, her deadpan demeanor faded.

"Don't bother. Sometimes I prefer you goofy."

Mike exhaled and fell onto his back, staring up into the blue sky. "That explains a lot, though. Why I got such a weird fuzzy feeling in my head at the game; he was messing with me with his power, wasn't he?"

"He was." Mica nodded.

"And the other kids…Are they all nobles too?"

"…Yes." Mica finally said. "When Zoda's forces invaded, only the others were close enough for my father to save. They had come for a party that afternoon."

"And then…they all have this Shilivre thing too, right?"

"As far as I know…yes." Mica said, pausing for a moment as she remembered Giskard's deficiency, and chose not to mention it.

"So did Zoda have it?" Mike asked, the question coming so far out of left field that Mica was left briefly without an answer. She mulled over it in her head for a few moments, then finally shook her head.

"…No, I don't think he could have. He was an alien invader after all…He couldn't have been Argonian."

"And the Starseer had it…and used it…Because that's what allowed him to beat back the Star Devils. If I remember your story right."

"You do, and yes."

"Then…" Mike began, looking down at his hand unsteadily, frowning, "…What am I?"

Mica closed her eyes for a moment, then looked over at him. "You're wondering if you're the Starseer, aren't you?"

"Yeah." Mike mumbled. "I mean…the prophecy…didn't it come true?"

"The funny thing is Marlin and I had a talk about this not long ago." Mica noted carefully. "In the end…you can believe the legends as much or as little as you want. It doesn't change the fact that you're Mike Jones. That you saved us. And that it all happened, whether it was predicted or not."

"…If it is true, though…then it means I never had a choice." Mike continued, now quiet. "It would mean that it had all been foretold. That I had no control over my life."

"So don't listen to the prophecies then." Mica urged him, rolling onto her side and pressing her hands into his stomach as she leaned over his face, insistent. "Don't try to be the Starseer. Just be yourself."

"And what do you think?" Mike asked, looking up at her pleadingly. "Do you believe in the prophecy?"

Mica seemed to freeze at that, her fingers digging into his skin before she lowered her head onto his chest and listened to the gentle beating of his heart.

"I don't want to believe in prophecies." She said quietly. "They still scare me."

Mike gently ran his right hand through her hair, stroking gently against her scalp, pushing his own doubts aside as he responded to her. "You don't need to be scared. I'm here to keep you safe."

Finding her moments of joy once again being overrun with heavy thoughts and memories nobody else could carry, Mica tried without success to stop the tear from rolling out of the corner of her eye, and thinking of a horrifying conclusion she could never utter.

_It is because you're here…that I am afraid._

* * *

Ezilian could still feel the painful stab of Mica's attack in the back of his head. Like a ghost sensation, it was a pain that wasn't real; but it was present enough in his memory it might as well have been.

And he was on edge. Annoyed. Slightly out of his mind, after the run of fermented coconut juices he'd run off with earlier in the morning, bobbling from side to side and running on more venom and poison than common sense and logic.

He was angry, and he knew very few ways to express it that didn't involve violence and physical strain. So he found himself on the southern shore of Coralcola, stomping angrily through the beach and hurling shells back out to sea when he came across them.

"It's all his fault." He muttered tersely, clenching his fist tightly around the misshapen seashell in his hand. "If he'd just left…but no, he has to stay. Has to ruin everything."

It was a rage that had been boiling up in him for days now; it had begun with a severe distaste that had existed for Mike in the opening days when they'd met. It had moved on to a barely hidden hostility during the baseball game.

And Mica had defended him then too. Ezilian knew nothing good could come of whatever sort of relationship was blossoming between the two.

She was his. Not Mike's.

He'd used Amethyst, the other Argonian girl he'd taken a liking to, to trick Mike into leaving. And once he'd done that, everything was supposed to have turned out fine.

But then, he'd gotten sloppy. He'd talked about it. While cuddling with Amethyst, his carelessness allowed Mica to overhear everything.

And still, she defended Mike. It was thanks to Mica he still had such a lingering headache. She had cancelled their betrothal…an action he still couldn't help think she could not do legally. She had not matured yet, after all…and only the ruling member of the royal house could change such matters.

But legal or not, she had severed her ties.

And Ezilian had lost his ticket to the crown.

"DAMN HIM!" Ezilian screamed, hurling the seashell out with a snapshot spin into the surf.

Even then…he might have been able to patch things up. Convince her it was for her own good, for the general well being of all the survivors.

But then Mike came back.

Despite everything Ezilian had had Amethyst remark to him…all the hurtful and damaging fallacies that should have sent Mike packing, never to be heard from again, he'd returned. Giskard left in his place, the insipid little bookworm that he was.

He didn't see Mike much these days. He preferred it that way. But neither had he seen Mica that much either; what contact she did have with him was brusque, quiet, and with only the barest sense of recognition.

He hadn't seen anyone in a day…He'd run off, too worn out and aggravated to even put up a farce of his usual social interaction.

So she hated him now.

And Ezilian hated Mike because of it.

It was all his fault.

"You're not my savior, Jones." Ezilian rasped, eyes glaring murder.

_You're not the Starseer. When Argonia fell to Zoda, where was our hero then, HUH? So what if you had the Super Nova? It's not Ellini…it can't be Ellini. _

"The Starseer never came back, and the Argonians went extinct." Ezilian rambled, tottering back and forth. "I'll be damned if you're him."

Slowly, he regained his footing and took a few deep breaths, forcing what little mental control he had to turn his _Shilivre_ loose on his addled thoughts, calming them, forcing himself to think clearly.

When he opened his eyes again, the rage was tempered with resolve. Amethyst may have been his chosen, but Mica had nonetheless been promised to him.

And he'd waited long enough.

Eyes flaring, he turned about and looked towards the steps that led up the steep divide between island grass and the sunken level of the beach.

"It's time you and I had a man to man talk, Jones." Ezilian growled as he began to walk up. "Time for me to prove once and for all that you're not somebody to worship."

_And certainly not somebody for Mica to love._

* * *

_Howduyadocola, Ancient Underwater Ruins_

1:47 P.M.

Sub-C was a marvel, that much Giskard could admit as its covered thruster fans pushed it through the water with ease. Sub-C had submerged in the midst of the loose island cluster by Howduyadocola after heading north from a strange outcropping of grassy crags jutting from the seabed in the shape of a cross; Doctor Jones had been smiling as they'd submerged, while Giskard fought the urge to scream by gripping his armrests with unusual force.

Underneath the surface, a good one hundred feet down, they had reached the shallow bottom of the seafloor surrounding the islands…from there, Doctor Jones had eased Sub-C into the gaping maw of an ocean access tunnel, still grinning like a maniac.

Now, as they continued to go through the long, but unusually straight access tunnel, Dr. Jones looked over from his driving for a moment to look at his passenger, shaking his head. "Relax, Giskard. Sub-C's the safest little boat I've ever been in. We're in no danger."

"Yeah, nonetheless it's just creepy as all getup." Giskard mumbled. "I didn't think we'd have to submerge to do this…"

"I didn't know you had a problem with water." Dr. Jones spoke in surprise.

"Water, no." Giskard replied, shaking his head. "I can swim just fine. But…No, I guess I'm more worried about sinking."

Dr. Jones laughed at that. "You pick an odd time to worry about sinking." He motioned to the massive reinforced viewing nose of Sub-C. "See, the tunnel's already starting to slope up, we're not far from the surface. The water around these islands isn't any deeper than 100 feet anyhow; now, if you wanted to be afraid of the depths, you should have mentioned that when we were out on the open ocean; around the Islands of the Southern Cross, it can get as deep as 14,000 feet."

Giskard paled. "Thanks for the pep talk."

"Anytime, my boy." Dr. Jones replied, still smiling.

"Dr. Jones, we are approaching our final destination point." Nav-Com advised with its usual artificial tone. "Total travel time was…"

"Nav-Com, mute." The Archaeologist shot back, rubbing at his forehead. Nav-Com fell silent, then turned back to continue monitoring Sub-C's vitals.

"So you had to get to these ancient ruins by going underwater…how did you know to look here?" Giskard posed thoughtfully. "It's not like you always had a submersible…"

"True, I didn't." Dr. Jones said. "But my research into the ancient civilization of Easter Island made me realize that inevitably, the inhabitants had come from over the ocean, not from the nearby continent of South America. So plotting various sea routes…and estimating the shift of ocean currents to countless years before…Well, that's when I found the islands of the Southern Cross."

He pulled back on Sub-C's yoke, guiding it up at a steeper angle. "Found isn't the right word; they were always here, and the world had known of them since Captain Bell's exploration. All the same, I decided there was greater significance to these islands…Which is why I then created a laboratory, out of my own funds and some sizeable government grants, on Coralcola. Sub-C was a donation from an Oceanographic Institute; they've had some luck with famous shipwrecks in the last few years, so they've had plenty of money to test out new designs. I'm test driving Sub-C, actually."

"That gives me newfound faith in the likelihood of my continued existence." Giskard commented.

"I digress. So I began to examine the area of the Southern Cross, study its people and their culture. They have had some worldly influences; the helicopter pad on Coralcola, for instance, comes from my presence there more than anything. But on the whole, they have kept many of their old traditions, and stubbornly refuse to let them go. So much the better for me…Because I can study them today as they were hundreds of years ago. I was scouting the area around Howduyadocola one afternoon, when Sub-C's power circuits began to short out. I was on the surface at the time, so I didn't panic…and while I worked to restore electricity to the thrusters, I found the tides were beginning to act strangely."

Dr. Jones adjusted his glasses, pulling the yoke back harder and decreasing his speed. "That kind of force would only come about from a motion, or suction of the water itself; a hidden inlet, I came to discover. So I dove, and found the entrance to these ruins. That's when my time here in these islands at last began to pay off."

At long last, Sub-C came shallow and surfaced inside of a darkened cavern, and Dr. Jones turned to nod jovially at his new companion. "And now I have you to help me out."

"Don't expect a miracle now." Giskard answered, the color in his face returning as he got up from his seat and moved eagerly towards the escape hatch. "I know a lot, but there are large portions of Argonian that we never got to cover."

Dr. Jones finished the docking procedures as he pulled Sub-C up to the cavern ground, shutting down the thrusters and picking up a small remote control from Nav-Com's back.

Giskard glanced back at him, slightly befuddled again as the Doctor put the remote away and snatched his rucksack and an electric lantern from their supplies. "What's that for?"

"The remote?" Dr. Jones posed, shrugging his shoulders. "It allows me to keep in contact with Nav-Com when I'm separated from the ship. There's a radio transceiver in it as well, which is the handiest function most days."

"You really think we'll have to call home, do you?" Giskard surmised.

"Boy scout motto…Be prepared."

"…_Rano dekasta…_" Giskard voiced after a pause, smiling. "It seems that some concepts may well be universal."

"That wouldn't surprise me all that much." The archaeologist said, stepping up the ladder and popping Sub-C's hatch with a hiss of pressurized air. "If you keep at the study of history long enough, you'll almost start to get periods confused."

Stepping up and onto the roof of Sub-C, the doctor looked down inside the lit cockpit of his submersible and held out his hand. "Hand me the lantern…I'd forgotten how dark it gets in these ruins some days."

Wordlessly, the lantern came up, with Giskard following soon after, running a hand through his tousled hair. A click of the lantern's button snapped the halogen bulb into life, casting its bright white light off of the reflective water and creating a shimmering series of bubbles on the walls.

Despite himself, Giskard's eyes went wide with disbelief. "By the Starseer…"

"Yeah, pretty amazing." Dr. Jones agreed quietly, waving the lantern about to show the entire grotto. "Welcome to my ruins."

The two stood on the roof of Sub-C for a moment, admiring the view and lulled by the dancing lights. At long last, Giskard's now raging curiosity claimed him fully, and he leapt off from the sub onto solid ground.

As Dr. Jones followed at a slower pace, Giskard ran a hand along the wall, peering and scrutinizing it. The archaeologist blinked a few times, then smiled and clapped a hand on the boy's shoulder, keeping his lantern aloft. "Looking for those writings already, are we?" Giskard harrumphed aloud, and the doctor clucked his tongue. "There's nothing in this room, my boy. It's all beyond in the rest of these ruins. This was just my entrance."

"Yet it was here." Giskard emphasized, shaking his head. "The entrance, I mean…Look at the walls. The evidence of erosion is minimal; the passageway leading out from this grotto is too finely cut. This entrance into the ruins wasn't carved by nature."

As Giskard turned around to look at his companion, the doctor frowned, handing over the lantern and walking back towards the ship for their rucksacks. "So now we come down to the integral question…if these ruins are not as sunken as I thought them to be, but have been hidden since their foundation, what sort of people would be able to construct such a marvel?"

As Dr. Jones climbed the side ladder back up Sub-C, Giskard set the lantern to the ground, gears in his head silently working.

When the archaeologist came back with two heavy sacks, one in each hand, the youth was still as befuddled. "Have an idea of an answer yet?"

Giskard looked around the cavern again, his jaw shifting left and right as he thought. "_…Yavim oyo sennae ur, Terani nerai Rellini dur…_" Turning back to Dr. Jones, the boy shook his head. "And to the stars our people went…The Starseekers searching for where the Starseer was sent."

* * *

_Coralcola Island_

_11:53 A.M._

Lunchtime came for the islanders, but with a change of plans. An unusual smell wafted in the air from the village cookfires; a burned and roasted sweetness that seemed out of place in the typical diet of coconut, fish, pork, breadfruit, and vegetables. As Mike and Mica strolled down from the north end of the island and out of the dense foliage that acted as the boundary for the village's north side, the smell grew more insistent.

Mica sniffed the air, unsure of what to make of it. "What do you suppose that is?" She asked. "Something smells different."

"Well, they could just be experimenting with something new…unless there's some sort of special occasion going on." Mike began, thinking for a moment. His eyes went wide as he looked at Mica. "Aah, cripes, there isn't some Argonian holiday I've forgotten about, is there?"

Bumbling Bakusian laughed over by one of the campfires, cheerfully stirring a fat hog on a spit as he drizzled more sweet smelling juice over its hide. "Not quite, Mike!"

Mica smiled at the boy and shook her head. "All right Bakusian, I'll bite. So what is it then?"

"If you must know, we had a shipment of pineapples come in two helicopter drops ago from Hawaii." The Island Chief spoke up sadly, chewing away on a stalk of what looked like celery. "Baboo had stored it away in Dr. Jones' laboratory, and he figured, why not pull it out today and have a party?"

Marlin pulled his messy face away from a shank of pork and grinned at the island chief. "Of course, the poor Chief here is still on his diet, eh big fella?"

"He'll remain on that diet of his until the spirits decide he has made enough progress." Bana Omoy called out sternly from another table, shaking her head before turning back to little Rozlyn, who fumblingly tried to cut her own sweet smelling pork chunk into smaller pieces. "Which, given his recent evaluation, will not be for some time yet."

"Rub it in, why don't you." Hapo grumbled, staring longingly at Bakusian's roasting pig.

Marlin whistled towards Mike and motioned vigorously with his hand. "Come on, come on! Grab a plate, siddown, and eat! I've wanted to talk to you anyhow."

Mike ran a hand through his hair and exhaled in exasperation, turning to Mica and shrugging with a smile. "Sorry, Princess. Duty calls."

Mica punched him lightly in the arm. "Then get to it, hero." She turned and looked around, her eyes settling on the table where Bana, Rozlyn, and Amethyst sat. She moved over to it and sat down, averting her eyes from Amethyst out of embarrassment and shame, while the girl with the pigtailed hair did the same, staring down at her plate.

Bakusian walked over and set a plate of the pineapple cured pork in front of her, grinning. "Try some, Princess. I think you'll enjoy it."

"I'm sure I will." Princess Mica smiled up at him. "Thank you, Bakusian. I never knew you had such talent."

Bakusian shook his head, his smile waning. "Well, being a noble of Argonia, did we ever get many chances to do things for ourselves? Out here, I can take my love of food and do something with it. I had to beg the cooks on Argonia to show me how to do it…And my parents never liked it. But here, I can do what I love…and nobody frowns on it."

"Hey Bakusian! You got any more?" Came a shout from a distant table. Bakusian looked up and waved his apron. "Coming!" He looked down at Mica apologetically. "I'm sorry, we've got customers waiting."

Mica shook her head again and looked over at Bana. "It's amazing."

"What is, dear?" The old shaman asked, looking up from Rozlyn's efforts to cut her pork.

Mica rested her head onto her hands, elbows on the table. "How everyone here…has found a way to fit in and to move on with their lives…"

The Princess stopped herself, then closed her eyes. "Except me."

Bana's eye gained a twinkle of recognition, then she nudged Rozlyn in the shoulder. "Come on, dear. I think I may have some coconut cookies back at my hut; I'm feeling ready for dessert."

"Oh, yay! Cookies!" Rozlyn squealed, pushing her dirty plate into the center of the table and jumping up to her feet. Bana nodded at Mica, then took Rozlyn by the hand and strolled off.

Amethyst glanced up, a little surprised to see her sister strolling off. She tried to open her mouth for a moment, then shut it, realizing what the old shaman's plan was.

Mica bit her lip, not knowing whether Bana had forced her and Amethyst to sit alone together by chance, or by that greater sense of her problems that the old witch seemed to possess by instinct or foresight. Whichever it was didn't matter much in the grand scheme of things; She was still sitting here alone next to Amethyst…Who she hadn't been able to stare straight in the eye after she discovered Ezilian's affair.

This was going to be a memorable lunch, that much was certain.

"All right Marlin, what's got you so worked up?" Asked Mike, sitting down beside the grinning Argonian with a heaping plateful of pineapple glazed pork.

Marlin chugged down the last of his glass of chilled coconut milk and slammed it down. "I felt the need to go spelunking down in the caves again, and I was wondering if you'd like to come along."

Mike clucked his tongue. "Normally, I'd take you up on that in a heartbeat, but I'm thinking I may have other plans." Marlin pouted at that.

"Like what?" The Argonian inquired. "Fishing again? Sunbathing? Your Uncle's off with Giskard, and they won't be back for a few days. What else would you have going on?"

Mike shrugged, feeling a tug inside of him, warning him to not divulge the truth. Ezilian may have known, but he'd kept himself distant, quiet, and morose. Neither he nor Mica particularly cared about what Ezilian thought of them…but Mike didn't want to chance announcing the truth to the rest of the Argonians, and to the island at large. The rest of the Argonians he didn't have a problem with; and given how powerful their traditions were, it was likely they wouldn't respond well to the news that their Princess had chosen a commoner, and an alien no less.

_Funny…I'm used to them being the aliens._

"Mike?" Marlin nudged him in the shoulder, chuckling. "Hey, wake up buddy."

"Huh?" Mike said, refocusing on his seatmate.

"You looked like you slipped into some deep thought there for a minute, big guy." Marlin said with a smile. "But why won't you go into the caves with me?"

Mike mulled over it a bit in his head, then winked at the youth and patted him on the shoulder. "Let's see how the day plays out, Marlin. It's only half over, after all."

"That's the best answer I'm going to get out of you, isn't it?" Marlin asked.

"At least until I've eaten LUNCH." Mike said, acting half annoyed as he picked up a chunk of pork and bit off a chunk. Still, he ended with a smile. Marlin was a good kid, and still knew how to make him smile.

Neither Mica nor Amethyst said anything for a few minutes, poking and chewing away at their food with a quiet intensity. Mica would throw a furtive glance in the direction of the girl every now and then, but Amethyst kept her face hidden, staring down at her meal and trying her best not to look up.

Mica tried to think of some way to get her attention. The quiet bothered her, and it likely made Amethyst feel worse. Amethyst likely still felt a sense of guilt, or at least, that was what her body language put off. The Princess pursed her lips, then sighed and closed her eyes, focusing her energies.

_**We could sit here all day like this, but it's driving me nuts. **_

Amethyst jerked her head up at the transmission, looking at the Princess with a certain amount of disbelief. The Princess opened her eyes back up and frowned.

_**Act normal, Amethyst. You shouldn't have to be nervous around me.**_

Amethyst recovered her senses and looked back to her food, trying to look as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening…certainly not that the Argonian princess and herself were in a telepathic conversation.

_I'm ashamed._

_**Why?**_

_Because Ezilian…he and I…_

_**It's all right.**_ Mica interrupted, calming her worries. _**My problems rest in him, not in you. You don't need to feel guilty for responding to your feelings.**_

_So Ezilian…and you…_

_**As far as I'm concerned, our betrothal is done with. There is no shame in your relationship with Ezilian now. **_

Amethyst relaxed at that, a great weight of guilt and social worry fading from her.

_Thank you, Princess Mica._

Mica smiled back at the girl, relieved that it was done with.

_**There's only seven of us, Amethyst…and we have to be strong. We cannot be driven apart because of the plotting of one individual.**_

Amethyst leaned back in her seat, blinking.

_Ezilian…I haven't seen him in a day now._

Mica frowned. _**What?**_

_I'm serious! _Amethyst continued, more insistent. _To be honest, I'm kind of worried about him…He couldn't have gone far, but…He hasn't been the same since you mindblasted him._

Mica breathed for a moment, then severed the connection and reached for her food again. "Well, when he gets hungry, he'll come back." Mica finally said, smiling at the girl. "He's conniving, self-serving, and a little stupid, but he knows when to eat."

Amethyst poked at her own food, full enough. "I hope so." She said quietly.

As luck would have it, Ezilian was indeed headed for the dining area. Unlike Mica's guess for his coming, though, it was not nourishment the enraged and confused young adult was after, but a darker reason.

The village was thoroughly enjoying the atypical lunch that Bakusian had worked hard to have ready, and did not notice Ezilian's quick and purposeful gait. They did not notice the youth at all until he appeared at the edge of the communal eating hut and stormed through the center aisle of tables.

"Hey, it's Ezilian!" One of the islanders called out good naturedly. "You made it just in time for the feast!"

Bakusian was similarly possessed of good cheer, and he took a moment to pause from passing out more pork to wave at the eldest Argonian boy. "You have got to try some, Ezilian! It's really great stuff!"

Soon, everyone who had greeted him with such friendly eagerness felt their welcomes slipping away into concern and a sense of dread that refused to be recognized. Through the quieted welcomes and the slowly rising mumblings of wonder and furrowed brows, Ezilian charged on. There was red in his sight, and a dull droning in his ears that blurred out everything.

Amethyst looked up before Mica did, her eyes brightening. "Ezilian!" She called out excitably, standing up. Her smile faded away as she noticed first off that he did not even look at her, or even register the fact she had spoken. Confusion hit her as she wondered why he was glowering so, or stamping along like a bull ready to gore the matador.

Mica, a little more astute than her counterpart, saw clearly the path Ezilian's walk was headed down, and where it ended. At the table where Mike and Marlin sat, joking, completely oblivious to their surroundings. She too, rose to her feet, but had enough sense to shake her head, not enough time to do anything to stop it, but enough time to make note of it.

"Oh, by the Starseer, Ezilian, _don't do this…_"

Mike may have been distracted by his conversation with Marlin, but he was far from completely blurred out of the world. The looming shadow of a figure appearing over him made him stop and look up. Thus, while he was surprised at Ezilian's sudden appearance, he was nonetheless aware enough to notice the glare in his eyes and his clenched jaw…but more importantly, the fist that swung in from the side of his hip, aimed directly for his face.

He reacted with instincts honed by years on the field, and beyond it. His recent adventure had certainly sharpened his abilities, so instead of having to take the blow as it was intended, he swiveled to the side and took the punch to the side of his head, jarring his equilibrium and making his ear ring from the force. It also had the undesired effect of pushing Mike backwards with enough force that his flailing legs overturned the table and he collapsed backwards onto the grass.

A collective gasp rose up into the air as Marlin yelped in surprise, his lunch flying away from his hands and hitting the ground. But all eyes, even Marlin's, weren't focused on the table, but on Mike, who managed to collect himself enough that he rolled with the force of Ezilian's blow, turning his fall into a half cartwheel and landing on his feet, standing up with a raised eyebrow and a small grimace of pain.

"Ezilian, what the heck are you doing?" Mike demanded, trying to ignore the ringing sensation in his ear.

"Can it, Jones!" Ezilian barked, charging towards him with a murderous look in his eye. "We finish this today!" Mike was still slightly off kilter, but relying on his honed instincts again, he dove to the side of Ezilian's next powerful punch.

Ezilian recovered quickly from the failed strike, pushing strength through his arm to land a solid blow to Mike's back, knocking the youth aside once again. Mike let out a short blast of air from the hit, righting himself and clearing a good deal of distance between the two.

"Ezilian, stop this!" Mica called out, stern and furious.

Ezilian didn't look away from Jones for a second. "Not until I'm done with him, Princess. This has been a long time in coming." He crouched down into a stance that Mike didn't recognize, but the boy had seen enough martial arts movies to know that nothing good could come of it.

Mike righted himself, ignoring the bruised sensations his body was sending him. Clenching his fists and readying himself, he shook his head. "Ezilian, don't do this, man. It's not worth it."

Ezilian spat at that. "NOT WORTH IT?!" He laughed for a long moment, rearing his head back before stopping in a blink, glaring back at his foe. "Oh, that's where you're wrong. You've messed up our lives one time too many, Jones, and it's about time I made it clear just how much so!"

Mike narrowed his eyes, but he felt a strange sensation come from beyond Ezilian. His eyes flickered for a moment to the source, and he found Mica standing there, hands clasped to her chest, worry in her eyes.

She must have been trying to do something with the strange power Mike had just been told earlier that she had. Maybe tell him something. Mike didn't know, and couldn't; he was deaf to whatever message she was trying to broadcast.

_Maybe I don't have this Shilivre, huh?_ Mike mused wryly, turning back to Ezilian. _He's ticked off…more than he's ever been. Nothing's going to stop him this time, is it? No, any self control he's used before to stop from fighting me is gone now. Still…Let him come to me._

"You don't want to do this, Ezilian." Mike growled. "You're strong, but I'm stronger."

Ezilian grinned at that, his right arm tensing up as he charged at Mike. "We'll just SEE about that!"

The fight seemed evenly matched, for while Ezilian was well toned and possessed a mastery of an Argonian martial arts, Mike had speed and durability built over his time training for baseball. But it was clear that Ezilian had more power behind his blows than Mike could have mustered, if only because of the fact that Ezilian was older than the earth native.

In the end, Mike's saving grace was the unnatural reserve of strength and vitality he'd gained over the course of his Trials of the Startropics. However powerful Ezilian's blows came, Mike dodged out of the way, or deflected others…and the shots that did make it through were only glancing blows, enough to make him cringe, but not enough to severely daze him or send him down for the count. That was clearly the Argonian's intent, to put him down and leave him with a black eye that would stay in place for the rest of his vacation.

But Mike wasn't about to let that happen.

"Unf!" Mike grunted, doubling over slightly as Ezilian managed to sink a punch past his defenses and bury a fist into his stomach. Ezilian backed up a bit, then leveled a straight kick at his ribs. Unable to move out of the way, Mike moved with the shot, grimacing as he felt his ribs jar from the impact. He stumbled backwards, drawing in a sharp breath that brought a wheeze of pain.

_Aaw, Damnit…he bruised 'em pretty good._

"You just had to stick around, didn't you?" Ezilian snarled. "You saved us, sure. You got lucky, you took Zoda down…but you stuck around, you arrogant sonofa…"

"_I'm here on vacation, you idiot!"_ Mike blasted angrily, ignoring the pain from his chest and standing back up again. "Everyone else around here's gotten used to things here, and they've gotten used to me. You're the only guy who's got a problem with this situation!"

"Oh, yes." Ezilian snapped, tossing his hand to the side. "This little dump of an island is worlds better than Argonia _ever was_, eh? Oh yes. You have the option to come and go, but the rest of us are STRANDED HERE!"

"That's not my fault, Ezilian!" Mike blasted back, charging at the elder boy and diving in low at the last moment with a sudden elbow rush to the midsection.

Ezilian grunted at the blow, but shoved Mike off of him with a push and spat on the ground. "Yeah, but plenty else is."

"Knock it off, you two!" Hapo called out, more than a little flustered as the fisticuffs continued. The other Argonians could only watch in disbelief as their oldest associate continued to pound on Mike. Some of the villagers, marking it off as natural male tendencies gone amok, even began to place bets.

Of the spectators, only two had any real piercing interest that made their blood run cold as the struggle continued. Princess Mica, who could wager a pretty good guess as to why Ezilian had flown off the handle so violently, and Amethyst, who prayed in her heart of hearts that Ezilian wouldn't get too banged up from this stunt.

"You took her away from me." Ezilian snapped, throwing a wild punch that Mike easily ducked underneath.

"She wasn't yours to begin with!" Mike screamed back, hurling an uppercut straight into the teenager's jaw and sending the Argonian reeling away from him.

"_KYRCHAI!" _Ezilian screamed, recovering enough to level another strike. But the inflection and the word itself that he had uttered was enough to temporarily stun Mike, lose his concentration in the fight. His eyes widened against his better judgement when Ezilian shouted that…He'd heard the word before, against another opponent...

But it had come from a person that Mike had believed shared nothing in common with the Argonians.

Distracted, Mike took the punch to his sternum full force, gasping as the wind got knocked out of him again. Rage poured out of Ezilian now, and blow after blow followed his first one.

"Princess Mica was MINE! SHE WAS BETROTHED TO ME!" Ezilian screamed, ending his flurry with a flatpalmed strike that knocked Mike onto his back, finally dazed. "But no, you have to come along and RUIN IT. You don't belong here Mike, and you don't belong with US!"

"Come off it…" Mike wheezed, trying to gain his bearings, shaking off the pain as best as he could. "You never loved her. So quit with the broken heart bullhockey." Ezilian growled again and moved closer, but Mike's foot shot up and buried the toe into the fool's stomach for his troubles, and Ezilian stumbled backwards, coughing in spasms.

Mike stumbled back up to his feet, finding breathing to be a very difficult activity.

"Admit it…You had plans, didn't you…but something came along and ruined that. Zoda. And when you got here…I saved you, and that just burns your biscuit."

"You're not him." Ezilian rasped, slower to recover from his blows than Mike was.

Mike glared at him, not willing to make another move, but not about to let the older adolescent surprise him. "Who?"

"The Starseer!" Ezilian cried out. "It's impossible, it can't be…I WON'T LET IT!" He charged towards Mike again, but the earth native had recovered enough of his wits to lunge to the side, wincing at his bruised ribs in the process, and slam both fists against the base of Ezilian's skull before the Argonian could react. Ezilian saw stars explode behind his eyes, and he fell to the ground, in horrendous pain and barely able to do anything but writhe for a few moments in pain.

Mike wheezed, lowering a hand to support his chest as he shook his head. "I _never_ said I was the Starseer." He said through gritted teeth. "It's a legend, Ezilian, and you can take it how you like…But just face the real facts, and not the fears. I saved you and the others from Zoda. You burned yourself and lost Mica because you weren't faithful to that relationship. And whether you like it or not, I'm not going away for a long while yet…and Mica chose _me._"

Mike coughed for a moment, then shook his head. "And let's face it, Ranuforte…"

Ezilian turned, surprise and a refreshed bitterness burning in his eyes at the mention of his last name…never mentioned to Mike before, at least not by his lips.

Mike shook his head. "I told you I was stronger."

There were many things that Michael Jones was and did that Ezilian could take offense to.

But none were as aggravating, as hate inspiring, as that statement.

"And you can go to _Hell."_ Ezilian murmured, pulling himself back up to his feet and tapping into a power he had long ignored.

A strange, mystical, and all too alien locus of white light blazed around him like a candle, and every Argonian watching suddenly paled in horror.

"_NO, EZILIAN! DON'T DO IT!" _Amethyst screamed, the first Argonian who reclaimed their voice after watching on in horror as the greatest secret they had tried to keep hidden was blasted out into the open by a moment of heated anger.

Mike also watched in disbelief, realizing what it was that was being readied against him.

_Aah, Christ crackers…Tell me that isn't…_

Mike wheezed again, then shook his head. "You're crazy, Ezilian…You would use _Shilivre_ on me?"

Ezilian cackled at that, lost to his bitterness and his thirst for vengeance. "You, stronger than me? Laughable, Jones…The Argonian race will _forever be stronger than you could ever hope to be!_"

The villagers paled and distanced themselves away from the other Argonians, now looking at them with a muted sense of terror as they watched Ezilian slip farther and farther into madness. Mike stared numbly at the growing power Ezilian brought to bear, even as the Argonian's hands began to shimmer and glow.

"Stop this _immediately!!"_ Mica interceded, running between the two and holding her arms up to the sides. She glared at Ezilian, her heart pounding as she shook her head. "Damn you, Ezilian…stop it NOW. You've ruined everything we've worked for, everything we've tried to keep hidden…"

Ezilian guffawed, waving his hands in the air. "Oh, well _excuse me Princess._ I didn't know there was a premium on secrets these days, but certainly you and your little ragamuffin of a love toy there would know of them, eh?"

Mica's face burned from the stinging comment, but she refused to budge. Ezilian glared at her. "No, I think I prefer to have it all out in the open. I'm tired of obeying your tired instructions, and I'm tired of having to bottle up my feelings just to appease this FARCE of normalcy you try to keep up!"

Mica's eyes practically dripped vengefulness as she shook her head. "Ezilian Ranuforte, if you have cost us our new home, I swear to…"

"To what?!" Ezilian cried out shrilly, slicing the air in front of him. "To the Starseer?! The Starseer isn't real, Mica! HE NEVER WAS! All the legends…the stories…Just that! Coddling little fairy tales told to us at night to make us feel warm, safe, and comfortable, to reassure us that somebody greater than us was watching out for our well being!"

Mica looked as if Ezilian had slapped her. "How…How can you say that?" She whispered, stunned.

Ezilian's eyes, burning with rage, now carried a fine line of tears. "When Argonia burned and Zoda annihilated our people…Where was the Starseer then?! Where was our great hero to bring us from the brink of destruction, to fulfill the ancient prophecy?! NOWHERE!! Your father was always well intentioned, but his effort was futile! He locked us in prisons, blasted us through space…and sent us here, away from our homes, from even the graves of our families and friends…And for what?! To live? THIS IS LIVING?! To be trapped on a tiny island with an ocean around us on all sides, to never see the rest of this great world because we're different, because we have to hide?! We're doomed to die here, if things don't change, and King Hirocon knew it!"

"LIAR!" Mica cried out. "How DARE you…"

"And even now, you cling to the tiniest wisps of your faith and hopes." Ezilian snapped. "Together, you and I could have done something…we could have worked miracles on this dump of a planet, made a new home, a NEW ARGONIA. That was our only hope for survival, that was your OBLIGATION!! We could have brought forth life and put into this world the framework that had guided our prosperity back home! But no, you couldn't see that, you never could. You were such a hopeless romantic, a fanciful dreamer. Your father never understood…to rule, one does not need compassion and the tenderness of a woman, but the will and stern command of a man!"

Ezilian screamed again, the energy surrounding him exploding briefly in a massive halo around him. Mica, unprepared, was swept aside by the forceful blast and knocked to the ground, damaged from the fall and unable to stop Ezilian's wrath any longer.

Mike stared dully at the crazed Ezilian. He had never seen Shilivre used in such a…tangible form, but if his experience with Zoda was anything like what Ezilian had planned, then it was not likely to be a winning scenario.

The Argonian took one last glance at Mica, lying on the ground and nursing her battered elbow.

Slowly, Ezilian's gaze turned about and came to focus on Mike.

The boy felt a strange, unsettling, and all too familiar buzzing drone push into his head.

"And it's all because of him." Ezilian breathed, his screams fading. "I'll prove to you Mica…I'll prove to you that everything you've ever believed in, the Starseer, the legends, and your wrongfully placed feelings in this whelp are useless!"

The buzzing grew more intense, and Mike cringed, pushing a hand to the side of his head. Sucking in a sharp breath against the protests of his bruised ribs, Mike struggled with the sudden feelings of uneasiness that Ezilian blasted into him.

"Mike Jones is not the Starseer." Ezilian rasped, a sick grin appearing on his face as his _Shilivre_ glowed brighter about his hands. "After all, if he was…Then he would be able to stop me from doing this!!"

"Ezilian, stop!" Amethyst screamed, her voice panicked. "By the stars, PLEASE STOP!"

Mike gritted his teeth, a pulsing from deep within beginning to rise up alongside the pounding of his assaulted mind, making it worse. By tenacity alone, he managed to keep his eyes open against the thought eliminating migraine as Ezilian let out a powerful scream, and swung his right fist about.

Like something out of one of his video games, or some ancient story of magic and fantasy, the dazzling white power glowing about Ezilian's fist detached from his punch and hurtled towards Mike, a projectile of unknown power and effect.

Mike lunged to the side, dodging the blast by the narrowest of margins as it buried into the ground and exploded, kicking up a perfect hemisphere of grass and soil.

"That's it, Jones!" Ezilian laughed crazily, hurling blast after blast. "Keep running like the dog you are!"

Nothing could stop him. The other Argonians curled away from the violent and despondent man, and Princess Mica was still struggling to recover from her own injuries. As for the islanders, once Ezilian began firing off his bolts, they distanced themselves from the fight even farther, unable to stop watching, but now fearful of what might happen to them, should the Argonians ever all snap just like Ezilian.

And Mike ran. He had nothing to stop Ezilian's rage. He had no great hidden powers passed down through the mythical lineage of a long dead planet. He did not want to kill Ezilian, even if the youth did to him. Worse, he'd given his yo-yo to Giskard days ago when the grumpy bookworm had left with his Uncle. And the Super Nova…no. No, it was back in the laboratory, and even if it was here, he wouldn't use it. No, never again.

Still, the blasts crept closer and closer. The impacts kicked up dirt at his heels, and then at last, his ankles…then his knees…and then, a blast caught him solidly in the back, shattering over his body like a loose electrical cable in water, sending him collapsing to the ground twitching.

Ezilian's laugh and the pounding sensation in his head was all that Mike heard as he struggled back up to his knees, one hand kept against his injured chest and the other clutching at his aching head.

When he opened his eyes again, Ezilian stood above him, triumphant, unsmiling, glowing palm lowered down towards him.

"You're no Starseer." Ezilian spat out, eyes flaring.

_No…No, I'm not._

But all the same, even as Mike thought that, the pulsing sensation from somewhere inside of him grew…responded to the threat.

Mike felt it, was unsure of it. He blinked, thinking on it and of the strange pulse from within…

And in an instant, Ezilian's thoughtblasting ceased, the migraine inducing wave blocked off by a sudden potent wall of internal consciousness. Ezilian and Mike blinked at the same time, and with the same stunned surprise.

_But…No, how did I…_

Mike's feverish confusion didn't last long. Screaming angrily, Ezilian fired off his last bolt, the one that would knock Mike out and end the fight once and for all.

Mike didn't see the blast coming, though.

He felt it.

His hand came up. Stopped with the palm extended facing upwards towards the blast, and his eyes screwed shut.

Acting on instinct, Mike had responded with a speed beyond him.

The bolt swung downwards, impacted against his palm…

And then dissipated in an instant, the crackling force nullified.

Silence came.

The islanders said nothing.

Bakusian and Marlin let out an audible gasp.

Hapo Omoy dropped his celery.

Amethyst sank to her knees, and Mica went pale, shaking her head.

Above the wearied youth, Ezilian's eyes went wider than they had ever been before. His hand and his power, once so sure, quivered and then faded away as he took one step backwards away from Mike, and then another.

"N…No…It's…It can't be, that's…IMPOSSIBLE…"

Mike was sore all over. His mind, freed of Ezilian's migraine inducing effects, still was tired beyond all belief. His hand dropped back to his side, and through a slightly slurred tone of voice and one drooping eyelid, he wheezed again. No parting shot, no final one liner left Mike's lips.

Ezilian let out a cry of panic and dismay, then turned about and charged out of the village and towards the Coralcola Caverns.

"By Sellarus…" Mica finally said, once Ezilian was out of earshot. She stumbled next to Mike, looking at him in a mix of reverence and horror.

"He…He used _Shilivre_…" Amethyst squeaked.

"But then, that means…" Bakusian began, his voice trembling from the ramifications. "…He…The Starseer…"

"No, it can't be…I mean…" Marlin argued with himself, falling silent.

For Mike, it was all too much to take in in far too short a time. So he did the only rational thing left to him in the situation.

He closed his eyes and collapsed onto his side, slipping into the blissful void of darkness.

* * *

_Howduyadocola_

_Ancient Ruins_

3:24 P.M.

Giskard and Doctor Jones had pressed in deeper within the ruins, a clear goal resting in the archaeologist's head. He'd explained as much to Giskard, who had nodded his head at the wisdom behind it. They were going to push through the caverns and reach the center of the main route; the center which contained the remains of the Argonian space pod, and more importantly, the cipher inscribed on the side of it. That cipher, of which the good doctor had only been able to decrypt a part of, still withheld some vital secrets.

Just as the rest of this place did…which was why Doctor Jones wanted to give Giskard as much time to ponder over his first discovery. The Argonian had fallen silent after mumbling a sentence in Argonian and then translating it. Gears were turning in the head of his associate, and until Giskard finally ventured to speak again, he wasn't about to interrupt that process.

It made the trip somewhat more unnerving. Uneasy silence hung over them, bothering the doctor far more than Giskard.

"Damnit, if only there were some more inscriptions." Giskard muttered, shaking his head.

"Pardon?"

"Inscriptions!" Giskard spoke up louder, still as agitated. "What I was able to pull out of your books…they lead to a conclusion, all right…but I need more to back it up."

Dr. Jones looked at him, not having to feign confusion. "Care to enlighten me? You mumbled that crazy rhyme in Argonian a while back, and I've been wondering what you were getting at ever since."

Giskard exhaled and ran a hair through his spiked, mottled hair. "My apologies. I suppose I should explain."

He folded one arm behind his back, the other carrying the powerful strobe lantern he held. "You remember the story of the Starseer that Mica told at the campfire some time back?"

"Of course."

"Then you'll remember how the Star Devils were beaten back by the Starseer, and a great period of peace led our people to endure." Giskard continued. "The Starseer left a woman of impeccable intelligence and bravery to lead his people after he vanished from sight; Sellarus Argos. She would become Queen Argos…and from her, we got the name Argonia, and the royal line, up to Princess Mica."

"Yes, but that doesn't…"

"It's important you know all the facts." Giskard said calmly. "I would hate to explain details later on. Suffice it to say, this period of peace also bloomed into a great wave of exploration for the sake of exploration, and the spreading of Argonia's heritage. They were known as the Starseekers, and through them Argonia became a strong and well respected planet in the stars. We found peaceful communication with other races, we founded temporary colonies on uninhabited worlds, and all this the Starseekers did with the best of intentions. We perfected faster methods of travel, explored farther. Along the way, Argonia kept a record of all the Starseeker's visitations."

"And Earth, then…"

"Was not one of them." Giskard muttered, shaking his head. "But then, none of this makes sense. The reason I say that is because two years before Zoda destroyed Argonia, I researched the Starseekers on my own; first for a homework assignment, and then later my by own curiosity. The Starseekers went many places, but Earth, or any facsimile of it was not among the records at Argonia."

A low rumbling echoed through the caverns, giving Giskard reason to pause his explanations and turn curiously towards the archaeologist. Laughing a little bit, Dr. Jones shook his head. "Don't worry; that's normal. That just means a storm's getting started on the surface. The sound echoes down here strangely."

"Strange is the key word." Giskard replied, ruffling his hair. "I could have sworn I heard something."

"You're just jumping at shadows, is all." Dr. Jones consoled him, walking on. "But the Starseekers…if they didn't come here, then how is it that there is Argonian script in this place?"

"Logically, they would have to have been here." Giskard bounded up next to the doctor, staying as close to the flickering light as he could. "But then…there was no evidence of them ever coming here back in the archives."

"Do you suppose that they could have simply not filed a report?"

Giskard's eyes hardened. "No. They were very good about keeping in touch. That's the problem. If there's Argonian runes here, then that means the Starseekers came. And if the Starseekers came, then there was a report."

"But there was no report."

"And that's the issue." Giskard finished.

"Well, I can assure you that the runes are here." Dr. Jones noted, shaking his head. "We're coming up on the room where your spaceship crashed. It's got quite a few…as well as the cipher engraved on your ship itself."

"That is why we came here." Giskard affirmed. He looked around, shivering as they passed through a broad room with water lapping at the sides of their pathway. "Somehow, these caverns are more porous than I thought they would be."

"Some of the rooms have a great deal more open water in them, true." The archaeologist swung the lantern about, narrowing his eyes. "We should be coming up on some steps soon that will take us up to the next level of the ruins."

"I see." Giskard winced, covering his face as a quick drip of water splashed against his forehead. "I hope it's a little less moist."

"Heh, you think this is bad?" Dr. Jones laughed. "It was worse back just before Zoda showed up and kidnapped me for his work. No, things are pretty quiet right now…and so are the traps in these ruins, apparently."

"Traps?" Giskard said, lifting an eyebrow.

"Oh, lord yes." Steve answered. "I asked Mike about what he had to go through to get to me when he was on his quest…these floors here had sunk, leaving gaping holes of open water, and there was a fair share of monsters, if I'm to believe him." He paused, then motioned along a narrow path of dry land between two more soaked pavilions. "Through here is the room we need."

Up a thick set of stairs, the two explorers found an enormous cavern, enormous stone statues with massive heads standing at the sides.

Giskard couldn't help but whistle at the sight. "Those heads are creepy."

"They share a connection with the Easter Island heads here on Earth." Dr. Jones surmised. "I've long believed, taking a cue from the rest of my field, that the Easter Island inhabitants sailed from these waters long ago. Their craft went with them." The archaeologist moved his lantern around and motioned to the north. "But what we're looking for…is right there."

In the middle of the room, with a great deal of sunlight pouring in from the gaping hole in the ceiling overhead stood a sizable mass of metal.

Giskard moved towards it, no longer needing the light of Dr. Jones' lantern. His eyes were wide, his hands reaching towards it. "This…This is…"

"The very same escape ship that your King Hirocon used to send you to Earth." The archaeologist finished.

Giskard stepped up next to it, running a hand along its surface. Dr. Jones adjusted his glasses. "It…must feel odd for you to be here, touching it."

"No…not really." The youth responded slowly, his gaze fixated on it. "I'm just not used to being on this side of it." He moved his hand along the side until his fingers dipped into one of the three cavities carved into the melted craft's side. "It just looks like a meteorite now…like it was supposed to." Giskard clucked his tongue, pulling his fingers back and out of the slots that had once contained the Argonian stasis cubes. "So where exactly on this thing is the cipher? I'd like to see how you cracked the code to get us out of this thing."

The archaeologist moved up beside the boy, edging to the right. No longer needing it, he set his lantern behind him so he wouldn't trip over it. "Over here, Giskard." Dr. Jones smiled as he saw the familiar lines of text that had begun the entire mess.

Giskard harrumphed as he knelt down beside the objects, running his fingers across the engraved runes. "Heh…I see why Zoda would have a problem translating this. Argonian in itself isn't a hard language, just a very lyrical one. But this is Hirocon's standard scramble." Giskard looked up at the archaeologist and smirked. "You must have figured it out, of course."

"Naturally." Dr. Jones chuckled. "But to me, it wasn't all that original."

Giskard lifted an eyebrow. "Excuse me? Hirocon's habit of leaving his most important information encoded backwards was his hidden, defining trait! How can you say that isn't original?"

"Because here on Earth, there was an engineer and artist named Leonardo Da Vinci who did the same thing." Dr. Jones explained. "Da Vinci's oddity is well known to the better schooled inhabitants of Earth, and I'm not a code cracker by any means. It was a wild guess to apply Da Vinci's idea to the cipher, but it worked."

Giskard mulled over the thought in his head and nodded. "But only to a degree, I see." His hand danced from the first few lines to the next. "The first section is the one you had to have translated; it provides the instructions for how to remove the cubes…and how to link them together to free the contents."

"As I recall, I provided the first with ease, but gave him utter nonsense for the second." Dr. Jones smiled. "He didn't seem too pleased…He had his suspicions, but no patience. In the end, the cubes were his. So he left me in the ruins to die of starvation and went back aboard his ship to leave Earth, and figure out the last section of what I could translate on his own." The explorer shrugged. "Of course, he did not count on the fact that my dear nephew was hot on his heels."

"And a good thing, too." Giskard murmured. "So, then, I'm to take a crack at this last portion of the cipher?"

"If you might."

The Argonian narrowed his eyes, staring at the runes a little harder. "Gah…all right, reverse it then…" His fingers tapped against the side of the craft. "Blast it all, even…What is this?!"

Giskard stood up, flustered.

"I take it you couldn't do it?"

"It's nonsense and madness." Giskard murmured. "Common Argonian, Ancient Argonian, arranged in such a way that I can't make out what's reversed and what isn't. Argonian characters all have an opposite meaning assigned to their reversal. There's a message in it…but I'd need more time. More than this passing glance."

The good doctor sighed. "As much as I surmised. But fret not, Giskard. Time we have, in great abundance."

Giskard stretched out his arms, stepping away from the cipher and looking about the room. "I want to believe…That this place is a relic of the Starseeker's journeys. But everything in my past research goes against it."

The archaeologist thought for a moment, then walked over to the wall on the opposite side of the room from the ruined spaceship. Half of him was hidden in the shadows, beckoning slowly. "Giskard, grab my lantern for a moment and come over here."

The boy obligingly complied, and set after him with the warm glow swinging back and forth in his hand.

Dr. Jones had his eyes closed when the youth approached, but opened them and stepped to the side, motioning above his head.

"Tell me what you see here." The archaeologist whispered.

Giskard raised the lantern up and narrowed his vision again.

It only took him a few moments before his eyes widened. Stubbornly, he kept his jaw from dropping.

_"Juh-Halla Nek martula lor, endama kighra potus kor…"_

Dr. Jones smiled as the boy uttered those words. "Your language…it sings."

"Ancient Argonian always did." Giskard said quietly. "But you were right. These…This…"

"Is an outpost of your Starseekers?" Dr. Jones pressed. The boy nodded. "And what did the runes say?"

"Roughly translated…The final place the Starseekers reached, an unlikely son the King beseeched." Giskard took a step back and shook his head. "What that means, I'm clueless about…But the Starseekers were here. And this place is for real. It leaves a lot of open questions, though." Giskard faced Dr. Jones. "Every time the Starseekers found another planet, the records on Argonia were changed to reflect it…And the only person who had the authority to alter those records was the royal family."

"So then…You're saying that the records were altered by royal decree?"

"Had to have been." Giskard muttered. "And in the time of Hirocon…if not by Hirocon himself."

"What makes you say that?"

"He sent us here." Giskard said, his voice gaining confidence. "Hirocon…He was good hearted, love a joke, was a friend of the people. But he wasn't rash…there was always a plan, or barring that, a damned good reason for everything he did. He just said he was sending us away…maybe he told Mica something different, but if he did, then it was between them. All the same, there was no place in Argonia's normal sphere that was safe. He couldn't have sent us here, to Earth…unless he knew about it in the first place. Thus, at least for a time in his reign, the record had to have existed."

"And…Zoda followed."

The two stood like that for a while, a few answers beginning to dawn on them as more questions appeared.

"So then, we have to ask ourselves just what the devil this inscription is talking about with this unlikely…"

Giskard was interrupted by a low moan, perhaps far off, perhaps close, that suddenly reverberated through the cavernous ruins. Despite himself, his ears tilted back to lay flat against the sides of his head, and his hair stood on end.

Then came a distant shuffling.

Dr. Jones gripped Giskard's shoulder tightly, causing the boy to wince and look up at the archaeologist in wonder.

The human was pale in disbelief.

"Doc…What's going on?" Giskard whispered, a sense of fear beginning to blossom in him.

"Mike…You still have his yo-yo, yes?" Dr. Jones said shortly. Giskard nodded. "Then put it on, and be quick about it!"

Now on full alert, Giskard did so, and the archaeologist pulled them back towards the spaceship.

"Doc…What the Heck's going on?!" Giskard asked again, now frantic.

"This place is waking up." Dr. Jones said quietly, trying not to betray the fear in his voice. "The monsters are returning."

Giskard couldn't believe his ears. "What?"

From the opposite side of the cavern, to the pathway they had yet to travel down, a figure emerged from the darkness. It shambled with bandages wrapped around its rotting frame, soulless eyes peering forth as it moaned again. It moved slow…but its mere existence was frightening enough. Dr. Jones knew what it was, of course.

A mummy. And the only other time that they had wandered these forgotten halls…

Giskard couldn't even scream. Only Dr. Jones' quick recovery from shock, and his subsequent hard push sent Giskard running towards the path they'd come from, with Dr. Jones and his tightly held lantern swinging behind them.

"We don't have the time…No time!" Dr. Jones shouted now, his terror more apparent. "We have to get to Sub-C and get out of here!"

"Doc, I don't understand…" Giskard whimpered, trying desperately to not let fear overcome him. As they charged down the pathway they had previously walked, Giskard watched the pools of ocean water begin to rise, slowly creeping up over stonework and small patches of grassy terrain. "Why is this happening?!"

Dr. Jones said nothing, but the look on his face revealed that there was a fear in his heart he refused to make known.

More than ever before in his life, Giskard wished he possessed even the smallest bit of _Shilivre_ in him, if only to discern what Dr. Jones knew…and what, in these already strange ruins, had him so frightened.

Behind them, the one moan slowly was increased by awakened others.

* * *

The embers of firelight cast up and around the village, quiet and empty save for the old woman hunched over the glow, and himself, sitting cross-legged a quarter of the fire's rotation away. She carried a whimsical smile, her old and bony frame hidden underneath her ornate dress and the shawl covering it. Her official headdress was removed, making the Shaman seem far more at ease with her surroundings, less powerful, less impressive.

Reaching into a bag of what looked like sand beside her, she cast out a handful of the material, receiving a dark blue flash and a sweet smelling cloud of smoke for the effort.

"Much has happened since we found ourselves here." She said quietly, glancing over the licking flames towards him.

Mike's own vision never left her, or the campfire. The same blue haze seemed to surround him, guiding his thoughts in an inevitable direction. "I asked you once what was going to happen next."

"And I recall saying that only the stars knew the answer, Michael Jones." She answered, rocking gently back and forth. "That much has remained the same."

Mike grew angry. "But did you see what I just did?! I'm not supposed to be able to do that!"

"You were attacked. You defended yourself."

"Blast it, Bana, stop being so damned cryptic and talk straight! That was Shilivre! _Shilivre!_"

"The power of the Argonians?" Bana chortled. "How can you be so sure?"

"I…" Mike began, stopping himself. "How else could I have stopped him?"

Bana shrugged.

"Blast it, if only I knew…"

"Knew what?"

"Everything!" Mike shouted, throwing his arms up into the air, his nose stinging from the smoke peeling off of the embers. "Nothing! Something! What's going on with me?"

"Only the stars…"

"Yeah, yeah. Only the stars know." Mike interrupted, pounding a fist into the side of his leg.

Bana folded her arms, looking at him for a long moment. "There was once…a man who was able to speak with the stars. Commune with them. In so doing, he received their wisdom and their guidance."

"The Starseer." Mike concluded, exhaling. "They think I'm him."

"Who does?"

"The Argonians…" Mike closed his eyes. "All because…All because I saved them. And just now, after what I just did…"

"And do you think you are he?"

"No!!" Mike blasted bitterly. "I don't believe in that! I can't! If it's true, if I am, then it was all foreordained…And I never had any freedom at all!"

Bana nodded slowly, reaching for the bag of sand.

"It's all so messed up…" Mike finished, running a hand through his hair.

"It will be." Bana reassured him. "For now. But whether or not legends are true…that will always rely on your own perspective. Do you believe yourself to be the Starseer reborn?"

"No."

"Then you are not." Bana said simply. "In that much, you have freedom. We all are given the freedom to follow a path others believe belongs to us…or to forge our own."

"But which one is the right one?"

Bana smiled cryptically, pulling out a massive handful of the fire powder.

"Ask the stars."

She threw the powder onto the fire, and everything was lost in blue smoke.

* * *

_Coralcola Island_

3:34 P.M.

When he awoke, there was the faint smell of burning wood and light smoke in the air around him, but it wasn't blue. Not in the slightest. He tried to move, but his body screamed at him for the attempt, and he sunk back with a groan.

He was in a hammock, he realized that much. Not long after, something cold and damp pressed against his forehead. A towel.

"Finally awake, are you?" Came her gentle voice.

Mike breathed in and out a few times, against the complaints of his bruised ribs. "Ezilian isn't a pushover."

"No, but you were also holding back." Mica reminded him. "He…he wasn't."

Despite his injuries, Mike managed a weak laugh. "I think he was overdue for something like that." He cringed at the last, sinking back down into the hammock. "Cripes…"

Mica rested a hand on his chest, frowning. "Your injuries…bad?"

"Just well placed." Mike managed weakly. "What did he…"

Mica said nothing, and Mike cleared his throat to continue. "What did he…do after…After…"

His voice trailed off for a moment, and he sighed, shaking his head. "Mica, did I…Use _Shilivre_?"

She closed her eyes, and her face scrunched up into deep thought for a moment.

"Yes." She finally said. "Every one of us that was there felt it. You stopped his mindblasting, and then you stopped his psychic grenade."

Michael at last opened his eyes, his mind at last reaching towards full comprehension of his surroundings. He was in Bana Omoy's hut, from the odd decorations. Mica was sitting in a chair beside his hammock, a concerned and distant look in her eyes. She pulled the towel back, looking at him again. She didn't say anything, and it seemed to Mike that she was afraid to.

Gently, he pulled himself up into a half sitting position in the cot, feeling the soreness give way a bit through determination and time. "How?"

Mica closed her eyes. _You used Shilivre_, she repeated. Mike blinked at that, suddenly aware that she hadn't opened her mouth.

"What the…" Mike said suddenly, caught off guard entirely.

Mica's face went ashen. "And you can understand it now, too."

"I shouldn't be able to." Mike rationalized, trying to keep his wits about him.

"But you can."

_So what?!_ He countered mentally, a thought he echoed in his own mind so loudly that it took him a few moments to realize that it had followed Mica's open channel…

She flinched. _Oh, God…_Mike began, his heart nearly stopping. _I…I can't be using…_

Mica severed the connection forcibly, turning away from him. "But you are."

Mike's head began to hurt again. He leaned back in the hammock and pressed a palm against his forehead. "This is all just way too bogus." He uttered weakly.

Mica was quiet.

"I mean…I can't be. I can't. I'm Mike Jones. Just Mike…right?"

She remained silent.

"Darnit, say something!" Mike cried out in panic, reaching a hand towards her shoulder. When he touched her, she jumped away as if his very touch could burn her.

She moved towards the edge of the hut, her arms folded protectively around her.

"Please, Mica." Mike pleaded, his voice trembling.

"You're afraid." She observed, her own tone unstable.

_Yes._ He was frightened enough that he switched between open broadcasts and his usual speech…she could pick up on both with ease.

"Then I'm not alone in it, at least." She whispered. She turned to face him, some measure of resolve restored in her lithe frame.

_Mike…Shilivre can do many things. As you saw from Ezilian…it can cause great harm. But in the right hands, it can guide your actions, enhance your wisdom…and even work miracles._

"How?"

_Start…Start by focusing on your injuries._ Mica continued, some measure of her reluctance fading in the exacting procedures she described.

That was a simple enough task for Mike; ignoring the pain had been difficult, but connecting to them took little effort.

_Like it or not…there is Shilivre in you. Somehow, you've become awake to it._

_**I thought it was a power only the Argonians could wield!**_

_The Argonians and the…_Mica began, halting suddenly. She squinted her eyes shut and waved a hand in front of her eyes, quickly erecting a haze around herself that ended the open telepathic link Mike had reopened. It was strong enough to stay in place.

There had been a reason for it, though. Just before she had cast it, Mike had felt a dread arise in her as she approached the sentences' conclusion.

Something she knew…That only she knew.

"Imagine your Shilivre growing around you…making your entire body warm." She continued. "Imagine it taking hold of you, bringing you to contentment."

Mike, lost in a swirling sea of thoughts about everything about him, took a long time to carry out the steps she described.

But at last it came. It was a power he barely knew…but the feeling of warmth that it suddenly emoted was something blatant. Something he could latch onto with ease. So he did…

And when the light cleared around him, he found his injuries lessened. His ribs no longer bruised. Able to breathe and move in complete comfort once again.

Only a dull sensation of fatigue in his mind remained…A side effect of his procedure, he thought.

Mica leaned against the wall of the hut, needing the support. "You did it." She whispered.

Slowly, Mike stood up and moved beside her, grasping her by her shoulders to hold her up. "What did I do?" He pleaded. "How can I use Shilivre?"

"I…I don't know!" Mica responded, panicking.

"Yes, you do!" Mike shouted at her, terror in his face. "You know something! So what do you know? What am I?! Who am I?!"

_YOU'RE MIKE!! _She screamed at him, forcing him to stumble backwards from the force of the telepathic message.

She sank to her knees, hands clutching at her head. _Because if you're not…If you're…_

"Tell me." Mike begged, kneeling beside her. "The Starseer…I heard the others…they called me the Starseer. Ezilian fought me to prove something, to prove that I wasn't, but…"

Mica looked up, her face running with tears and red. "Your weapon…Your adventure…how you saved us, and just now…They all point to the validity of the Prophecy of the Starseer."

"The Starseer said he would return." Mike argued. "Shouldn't the Starseer be Argonian?! Last time I checked, I was human!"

Mica began to say something, but it caught in her throat, and she bit her tongue to prevent even a whimper from escaping.

Mike closed his eyes. "You're still hiding something from me."

Mica said nothing.

The door to the hut opened, and a familiar figure strolled in, leaning on her mystical staff for support. The wrinkled, but wise form of Bana Omoy walked in, a serene look on her face.

She glanced down at the two of them, kneeling on the floor and obviously in a tender moment. "I do hope I'm not interrupting anything." She said, in that unsettling calm fashion of hers.

Slowly, Mike and Mica stood up, the boy better able to quiet the screams and doubts in his mind to a manageable degree. "No, not really."

"Good." Bana exhaled, wandering over to the other side of the hut and easing into her chair. "Good. Still, I am glad to see you up and about. And no worse for the wear, apparently…"

The Shaman let her sentence hang, giving the two time to think. Mike lifted an eyebrow, suddenly concerned. "The others…The Village!"

"The Village?"

"When Ezilian…used his power? How did the villagers react?"

"Naturally, they are frightened." Bana stated, glancing over to the Princess. "They thought that Princess Mica and the others to be harmless…Ezilian's fight with you has added an unsettling aspect to our relationship."

Mica shook her head. "Then…are we being asked to leave?"

Bana snorted. "Heavens, no. I had to impress quite a bit of authority through my brother, but I've restored the peace…their ease of mind will take some time, though."

Mica relaxed at that, but Bana clucked her tongue. "Still…To have Mike demonstrate such a similar power…"

The two teenagers both winced at the reminder, and wise Bana cleared her throat. "Well, this is not the time for such matters. We must first see to restoring the tranquility of Coralcola…a task that will not be easy. The broader questions will have to wait."

There was a look of gratitude in Mica's eyes as she approached the shaman. "So what do we have to do?"

Bana shrugged. "You, my dear, should likely go and meet with your people. You have spent all afternoon looking over Mike, and they have been wanting for your leadership."

Mike blinked and looked at her. "All afternoon?" He questioned, lifting an eyebrow. Mica blushed, ignoring him.

"I'll go right away then." She concluded, dashing out the door.

"Mica, wait!" Mike called out, starting after her. The shaman extended her arm, stopping him short.

"This is her task, Michael Jones. Not yours." She chastised him.

Mike blew out a puff of air in disgust, then blinked. "Oh, God."

"What?"

"…This afternoon. The fight…" Mike worded slowly, turning up to her with a sense of dread.

Bana Omoy nodded. "Yes?"

"…They know. They all know now. About Mica…and me."

"That would seem to be a given, yes."

The Earth boy closed his eyes. "Cripes."

"Something troubles you?"

"How are they going to react? I mean, Ezilian…he was angry at me before Mica and I…but the others?"

Bana smiled. "They seem to have far worse things on their mind…But do not worry. Mica is going to talk to them, and they will ask her. She'll straighten them out."

Mike shook his head. "It's a really bad way for them to find out."

"Do you regret your relationship?"

"No!" Mike said quickly, his voice a protesting bark. "No…" He walked over to Bana, shaking his head. "Not for a second."

"Then don't worry about what they think." Bana concluded. "You have larger issues at hand."

Mike ran a hand through his hair. "I…I wish Uncle Steve was here. Maybe he could make sense of everything that's been happening."

The shaman fixed him with a curious gaze. "And what is there to make sense of?"

"I used Shilivre, didn't you see?!" Mike exclaimed. "That's not supposed to happen!"

"Oh? Why not?"

"I'm not Argonian!"

"True, you are not."

"…The Starseer."

"Hmm?"

"Don't play coy with me, Bana." Mike said, narrowing his eyes at her. "You know what I'm talking about."

The shaman folded her arms into her sleeves, glancing back at him coldly. "Really?"

"Ezilian nearly went berserk because he thought I was the Starseer. And after what I just pulled…Lord knows everyone else has to be thinking that too."

Bana smirked.

_And tell me when you've ever cared about what anyone else ever thought._

Mike's eyes went wide, his jaw dropping to the floor. "Wha…?"

Bana cackled a bit, rubbing at her eye. "I thought that might get your attention."

"You just used…"

"Used what, Mike?" Bana asked. "Shilivre?" The shaman walked over to him, resting a gnarled hand on his shoulder. "Do not trouble yourself with thoughts of who you are. You are Mike, and that is enough. True, there has been a power awakened in you. True, it is as the same gift that the Argonians use."

_That I use._ She said, speaking with her mind without missing a beat.

The shaman patted his shoulder consolingly a few times, then turned and motioned to the door. "For now, though, you would do well to show everyone that you are up and about, and no worse for the wear. Mica will likely need your help to settle the villagers down; my brother can only do so much."

Mike nodded numbly at that. "I'm…I'm just Mike then, eh?"

Bana shrugged. "You smile as Michael Jones does. You run as he does. You talk as he does. Nothing can change that. Do not trouble yourself with anything more."

The boy quietly motioned his agreement to that, moving to the door with painstaking slowness. He paused at the exit and looked back to the shaman, pursing his lips.

"Just…Just how much do you know?"

Bana smiled at that and tucked her arms into her sleeves.

_Only as much as the stars tell me._

She motioned to him. "Go. The living have no place in my hut at this hour."

Despite his now furious maelstrom of questions and doubts, Mike chuckled at the small joke and left, shaking his head.

Now alone in the hut, Bana tottered over to her chair and sat down, closing her eyes with a pained, wheezing sigh.

"Do not concern yourself with such trivial questions, Michael. The storm will guide you to your ultimate truth when the time comes."

* * *

The Argonians were all clustered inside of the Island Chief's large hut, dazed and lost in their own worry. Only Rozlyn, the blissful 6 year old seemed undisturbed. Dark and looming thoughts did not trouble her as much as they did the other, older children…Especially not when Chief Omoy had given her paper and crayons to play with.

The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife when Mica walked into the hut, glancing at them all. Off in the corner, dejectedly gnawing at another vegetable stalk, Hapo stood up and bowed to the Princess.

"Your highness." Hapo said calmly.

Mica nodded a return to him. "Chief Omoy."

Hapo motioned to the Argonians collected; Amethyst, Rozlyn, Bakusian and Marlin. "They've been waiting quite anxiously for you to come talk with them. I thought it best if they would stay here for a while, especially after…Well, especially after what Ezilian did earlier."

Mica prevented herself from wincing. "Yes, that seems a wise move. Thank you, Hapo."

"You're quite welcome." The Chief said with a nervous smile. "I'll leave you be with them then. Just don't burn the place down or anything, all right?"

The Princess fixated him with a slightly annoyed look, causing the Chief to laugh and scratch at his head nervously, heading outside with more speed than was necessary.

Only once he had left the hut did Mica's composed visage melt away. "Damnit!" She swore, pounding a fist against her thigh. "Ezilian, you fool…you've ruined everything."

"The Islanders…" Marlin began unsteadily. "They're afraid of us now."

"They're afraid of our powers, you mean." Bakusian added quietly. "I don't blame them. Shilivre's always been a dangerous thing in angry hands."

"And they didn't get much angrier than Ezilian earlier today." Amethyst finished, rubbing at her forehead. The girl looked as if she'd been crying recently, from the redness around her eyes. She looked to Mica. "How…How's Mike?"

"He's fine." Mica reassured them. "A little shaken from the experience, but…he's fine."

"Shaken, Hell." Marlin scoffed. "If I just woke up one day and suddenly found I could use a mystical force only a bunch of aliens were previously capable of using, I'd be more than shaken."

"True, but then, it wasn't long ago he also had to deal with the realization that aliens existed, now was it?" Mica added, lifting a finger. "He has a strong will and a good heart. Those two things keep him leveled."

"So…you and Mike?" Bakusian questioned shyly. "How long?"

Mica's face drew taut for a moment, but she released the tension with a sigh. "A few days now."

"And your betrothal to Ezilian, then?" Marlin prodded. "What of that?"

"Ezilian's a bad man!" Rozyln suddenly piped up, frowning as only a young girl could. "He's poopy!"

Amethyst rested a hand on her sister's shoulder. "Go color some more, Rozlyn. The big kids need to talk for a while longer." Rozlyn, easily distracted, ran off to do just that.

Amethyst exhaled, shaking her head. "My…Sister is right. Ezilian was not faithful to his betrothal to Mica." She spoke slowly, trying to avoid sounding shaky, despite the nervousness that grew when curious Marlin and surprised Bakusian looked to her.

Mica looked at her, surprise evident in her eyes. _Amethyst, you don't have to…_

"Ezilian and I have been seeing each other since we were released from the stasis cubes!" Amethyst said sternly, pushing herself beyond her worries and embracing the moment. Stunned, Mica could do little but shake her head in wonder.

The girl was far stronger than she let on.

"You're…you're kidding me, right?" Marlin said, hoping for a joke.

"No joke." Amethyst replied miserably, lowering her head. "I…I do love him. But he's too conniving for his own good. He used me in his plot…to get rid of Mike and secure his position of power. Mica found out and nullified their arrangement, as was her right."

Marlin lifted an eyebrow at the girl. "So…you were a part of this?"

"Yes." Amethyst whispered shamefully.

Mica walked over to the girl and drew her into a hug, pressing her forehead against the girl's consolingly. "That's all in the past now." She turned around and glanced at them all. "Right?"

After a few moments, the two boys nodded in agreement, realizing that there was little left to object to. Mica pulled Amethyst's face up to look into her eyes. "Are you going to be all right?"

"I'll live." Amethyst laughed weakly. "But it isn't going to be easy for us for a while."

"What isn't going to be easy?" A new voice piped up, strolling in through the door with a blank look on his face. The Argonians all turned and looked at Mike as if they had never seen him before in their lives.

The focused attention made Mike stop walking in, looking confused. "What?"

It was Marlin who broke the interminable silence first, sighing with a shake of his head. "I'm sorry, Mike…It's just been a lot to take in. And you did use Shili…"

The Earth boy's face grew hard. "So what?"

Marlin blinked, taken aback. "Well, I mean, only the Argonians and the Star…"

"It doesn't matter." Mike said, shaking his head. "I never believed in legends myself. Well, maybe the Legend of Zelda." He smirked. "But don't think about it too hard. What happened, happened. I'm not the reincarnation of some heroic mythical figure. I'm just Mike. That's all I am."

His words carried a reassuring quality about them that put the confused Argonians at ease. Marlin's face softened back into a grin, Bakusian chuckled a bit and then looked about the room as if looking for something to eat, and Amethyst nodded, her own thoughts more distant. Rozlyn drew with her crayons, blissfully unaware of what had taken place.

Only Mica's face carried a troubled look for a few moments beyond the other Argonians' less worried minds. He noticed it with his watchful eyes, but when she noticed him staring in his direction, and shook it off to resume her usual blank stare.

"So is there anything else you've all got on your minds?" Mike asked slowly.

Bakusian shook his head after a moment, but Marlin, closest to the Seattle native, ventured a comment. "So…you and Mica, eh?"

Mike nodded once. "That all right with you?"

Marlin shrugged. "She broke it off with Ezilian. Other people's relationships aren't my business to begin with. So, whatever man. Just as long as I can still play ball with you."

At that, Mike relaxed his stance, nodding in relief. "Always." He clapped his hands together and looked around. "So, then. What's next?"

"Now, we have to assure the islanders that despite Ezilian's earlier outburst, we're not a danger to them." Mica said simply. She thought for a moment longer and frowned. "Speaking of which…has anyone seen Ezilian lately?"

The Argonians glanced at one another.

"Not since he ran off after losing the fight with Mike." Bakusian stated. "Why?"

"Well, it occurs to me that we might stand a better chance of resting their worries if we got him to apologize to them all." Princess Mica explained.

Marlin clucked his tongue. "Well, you know Ezilian. He's got a knack for disappearing when he wants to."

"So, one of us will have to go find him." Amethyst concluded. "I'll volunteer, if…"

"No."

They all stopped talking and looked to the person who had spoken. Mike slowly shook his head back and forth, lips pursed in thought. "No…This is mostly my fault to begin with. Besides, he and I need to patch things up. I'm not going to keep him as an enemy, so I'd rather fix the bridge."

"You sure, Mike?" Marlin queried. "I mean, Ezilian's not usually the kind of person who will warm up to people he's taken a dislike to…and he practically hates you."

"He's just confused." Mike argued. "All he and I need to do is clear the air. Besides, I know this island better than the rest of you. He couldn't have gone far, there are only so many hiding places on Coralcola."

Mica affixed a questioning gaze on him, leveling a thought. _Mike…are you sure?_

Mike smiled back at her, pushing his own doubts aside. Bana was right, he decided. He'd take his troubles as they came, and not get lost in worries. _Do you trust me?_

Mica shut her eyes. _…Of course I do. All right then. You go find Ezilian. We'll deal with the islanders."_

Their brief connection severed, met with ease and disengaged just the same. Still, the slightly glazed look that they had shared during their brief communication hadn't gone unnoticed, and Amethyst paled a little more as the boys shook their head.

"Even now, you can still do it." She murmured.

Mike shrugged, tucking his hands into his pockets as he walked over to Mica and gave her a brief hug, pressing his forehead to hers for a timeless moment. The embrace completed, he headed back for the door, glancing over his shoulder at them all.

"I'll be back with Ezilian. Count on that."

"Bring Ezilian back safely." Mica reminded him. Mike waved his hand behind him, disappearing out the reed mat doorway.

Behind the Princess, Amethyst shook her head.

"Mike…you come back safely too."

* * *

Outside, Hapo finished munching on his vegetable stalk just in time to see Mike stroll calmly out of his hut. The boy marched over to him, saving the island chief from having to call out to him.

"Is everything all right, Mike?"

"Everything's fine, Chief Coralcola." Mike smiled, patting the man on the arm. "Mica and the others are going to want to talk with everyone, though."

The Chief nodded. "That can be arranged. It will take a little more convincing until they become sure that there's no danger from the Argonians. My sister and I already know that they're all right."

"They just have a few talents we don't, is all." Mike agreed.

"Apparently, it's a talent you share." Hapo replied cryptically.

Mike stared back at him, by now tired of having people question him or even mention the possibility of him possessing _Shilivre_. "Perhaps." Mike glanced sideways, looking around the village. "But maybe you can help me. Mica's put me in charge of looking for Ezilian. You didn't happen to see which direction he ran?"

Hapo thought for a moment, then nodded his head. Extending his arm, he pointed northwards, to the far end of the village and the woods beyond. "He ran that direction. I don't blame you…you were really beaten up at the end of your fight." Blinking as if looking at the boy for the first time since he'd stepped out of the hut, Hapo frowned. "How come you can still move after a beating like that?"

Mike shook his head. "Just lucky, I suppose."

The look that Hapo fixated on him let the boy know that the island chief didn't believe him for a moment, but despite that, he sighed and stepped back, moving out of his way. "I hope you find Ezilian, my boy."

"So do I." Mike said shortly, heading on his way. Hapo blinked at the boy as Mike took off in a jog, losing his attention in an instant as Mica and the others finally stepped out of his large hut.

Mica walked up to him, eyes focused. "Chief Coralcola?"

"Yes, Princess?"

Mica drew in a breath and let it out slowly. "We've…talked. We want to apologize to the villagers. Calm their fears."

Hapo smiled and put a hand on her shoulder. "I thought as much. Well, no time like the present. Shall we then?"

Mica turned back to the others, receiving nods from Marlin, Bakusian, and Amethyst. Little Rozlyn, sour that she had been taken away from her coloring, hung dejectedly off of Amethyst's arm and said nothing.

Mica turned back to the chief. "Absolutely." And the look in her eyes meant it.

* * *

Mike was correct when he said he knew the island backwards and forwards; between his initial explorations leading up to his strange adventure, and the time after the Argonians first appeared, he had been given plenty of time to observe and memorize the surroundings.

Thus, he had a fairly good guess where Ezilian might have run off to, especially if he had wanted to avoid any followers. It was that inkling that now took him down the trap door of the bath-house on the north side of the village. It connected to the underground waterways that the Coralcolans often tried to avoid, but which steadfastly remained.

"Too bad for Ezilian that everything down here died off when I saved him and the others." Mike chuckled, clambering down the ladder and turning about, narrowing his eyes.

The Coralcola Caverns remained much the same, having even the same smell about it. Mike knew that farther beyond, in the first cavern connected from the entryway he had landed in, he would find the pitching range that he and Marlin had set up. Ezilian might have stopped there, or he might have pushed in farther. As it was, Mike knew little of the older boy's mental state. He might have done something rash, though he hoped against it. To that, he shrugged his shoulders and pushed on.

The first room was just as he left it; tin cans were stacked up on the rock on the far side of the room, and a bag of baseballs, or horsehides as Mike liked to call them, was lying on the near side. A sound caught his attention, though; a sound that had clearly not been there before.

Or at the least…a sound he had thought extinguished a month ago.

The rattling and hissing of foul vermin, writhing about and glaring at him with yellow eyes. Mike froze for a moment, caught in disbelief.

"Snakes?" He whispered in surprise. As if to answer him, one of the island pythons lunged in his direction, and Mike jumped up into the air, watching as it passed harmlessly underneath his feet. Darting quickly, Mike moved towards the bag of baseballs, jumping again as the same snake passed by him again. "Damn!" He swore, landing on his side by the bag, his hand wrapping around one of the baseballs that had tumbled loose from the bag.

The snake coiled about, baring its fangs menacingly and lunging at the now prone boy with murder in its bestial eyes. Had Mike hesitated, he would have been bitten, and taken an injury that would have left a dent in him long ago. Now, perhaps it would do little more than scratch at his newfound vitality. Nonetheless, it was an injury he wanted to avoid.

Instinct took over again, and his arm whipped up and in front of him, launching the baseball into the snakes' mouth with teeth-cracking force. The snake seemed to hang in midair for a moment, then collapsed to the ground, its skull crushed by the blow.

Mike panted, realizing how close that had come to getting ugly. "Snakes…I thought I took them all out when I first came through here!"

_I mean…even when Marlin and I were practicing down here, there was just the occasional rat. Snakes were NEVER this close to the entrance…snails, yes, but snakes?_

More hissing caught his attention, and Mike snapped to his feet. Narrowing his eyes in the relative darkness, he pulled out a few more baseballs and lobbed them with deadly accuracy at the sources of noise.

A few seconds later, the soft thuds of ball against leathery skin signified his success, and the hissing stopped. Mike brushed the now visible line of sweat from his brow, shaking his head. "Good grief, what's happened to this place? They must have had some hidden nests I didn't know about…"

He nodded his head, sure of that. Yes, that had to be it.

He walked over to the far door leading further into the caverns, his eyes darkening.

A torn piece of Ezilian's shirt was caught on the rough rock surface next to the tunnel opening. He picked it up, noticing the color instantly with his now narrowed eyes. "Perfect."

His hunch had been correct, but after what he had just experienced, Mike had hoped desperately he'd been wrong.

"No time to worry about that now." He grumbled, looking about the room and the snake corpses. There were likely more further in.

A few seconds later, he had collected his thrown baseballs and slung the bag of projectiles over his shoulder. "I hope I won't have to use these." Mike mused quietly.

His yo-yo was gone; Giskard had it, after all.

And as for the Super Nova, that was back in his Uncle's laboratory. And he never wanted to use it again.

It had too much significance attached to it anymore…too many bad memories and troubling thoughts.

It was a weapon for the savior of the Argonians. Not a boy from Earth.

He pushed his musings aside and focused at the task at hand. "All right, Mike. Ezilian's somewhere deeper in the caverns. You've got no idea what you're going up against. You've got a bag of horsehides at the ready, your wits, and the experience gained from your island adventure."

His eyes focused into points.

"Let's dance."

* * *

Mike's initial surprise at the growth of the snakes may have been well founded, but it was not the end of his shock. Farther in, the snake population only grew, and more frightening was the appearance of creatures that he had only seen in other islands. The water level, being at high tide, had risen up into the caverns, making the terrain more dangerous for him. One wrong step would send him into the drink…And as Mike could never forget, he couldn't swim. Low tide was his friend, but that was now hours away.

And that was time that Ezilian, lost in this maze of caverns with newly recovered vermin, did not have. The boy had no weapons. And no matter how powerful he was with Shilivre's destructive potential…it wouldn't be enough. Not for long. Ezilian had Shilivre.

But Mike was stronger. In a straight out physical competition, he had proven that.

Another baseball lashed out, smashing into a rabid rat with sickening force and power. It squealed for a moment, then fell limp. Mike ran to retrieve the baseball, crying out in pain when a snake, partially concealed under the rat's corpse lunged out and bit through the fleshy part of his palm. Reacting quickly, Mike threw the snake off and smashed the heel of his shoe on the beast's head, gritting his teeth against the pain as he heard the skull crack and crush under his weight.

"Heinous…" Mike said haltingly, shaking off the beginning effects of the weak poison that the beast had pumped into his system. "No time. No time." No time for weakness, for pain. He drew the wound up to his mouth and sucked, tasting bitterness against his tongue. Quickly, he spat it out and onto the ground. That would help some…perhaps just enough for now.

The room ahead was filled with tracts of water that seemed larger than they had been before. But more jaw clenching was the screaming monkeys that danced about the room, limber and frenzied. Mike's hand tightened around the baseball in his hand. "Darnit, where are they all coming from?!"

_The monkeys weren't here before…Monkeys were never on C-Island, never!_

One of the beasts noticed him, but Mike silenced the creature with a baseball to the forehead before it could cry out and warn its comrades. Still, as the monkey tilted left and right and then fell backwards into the drink with a loud splash, they noticed his presence soon enough. Mike bared his teeth. "Brilliant."

The monkeys, now focused on him, reared their heads back and screeched loudly, then started bouncing around the room, making an inevitable course for him. Mike pulled out another baseball from his bag, timing his shot and knocking another simian into the waters. Another screeched and charged at him, knocking him to the ground with a howl as it began to claw at his face.

Mike felt a rush of adrenaline flow through him, and he swung his fist up into the side of the beast, knocking it off of him. Wincing as he brought himself back to his feet, Mike dug into his bag of baseballs and pulled out another one. "This is getting ridiculous. All right monkeys, yer OUT!" He shouted, hurling pitch after pitch throughout the room. The monkeys shrieked and howled as the horsehides landed, sending them scattering out of the room through tunnels only large enough for them.

Slightly winded from the sudden effort, Mike took a moment to recollect himself. "This is nuts." He said quickly, staring woefully at his dwindling supply of projectiles. He'd lost a few when they fell into the water with the monkeys, but unlike the unconscious simians who floated on the top, his weapon of choice sank like a stone. "Island monkeys…on Coralcola?" He echoed again, gritting his teeth. "Something's not right here."

And somewhere, deeper in the caverns, likely surrounded by things even more dangerous and more difficult than the few creatures he had seen so far, Mike reminded himself, was Ezilian.

Mica's voice, soothing and wise, reappeared in his mind as he remembered their earlier discussion about Shilivre.

_In the right hands, it can guide your actions, enhance your wisdom…and even work miracles._

"And let me talk to people through telepathy, yeah." Mike begrudgingly agreed. He still didn't trust it, or really understand it. "But what else can it do…"

_Maybe…it can help me find him._

So Mike closed his eyes, collected his thoughts. He let the warm feeling radiate from his center, come up, and appear behind his eyes.

It wasn't his usual vision, and it frightened him for a moment. A few moments of thought made him realize that this was precisely what he'd been trying to do.

He didn't see creatures, or surroundings as he normally would. Instead, it was as if every object carried a unique glow about it…From the dull and dead cavern to the brighter creatures that now scurried about…

Mike drew in a breath. "Holy cow…" He whispered, opening his eyes and ending the trance. "E…Ezilian?"

He had seen a humanoid figure in the cavern, shaking in terror from something else that had been hidden from his Shilivre aided sight. That figure glowed brightly, and Mike had no doubt that it was Ezilian.

"Ezilian, so help me…" Mike groaned, holding his bag of baseballs tighter as he charged on ahead.

The Seattle native had no time. Ezilian was being attacked.

* * *

The natives of Coralcola Island had their fair share of legends and wives' tales as anyone else would. One of the most famous ones that they kept was reserved to chastise disobedient children; a stern warning that if they didn't behave themselves, they would find themselves eaten by the sea serpent beneath the island in the caverns. To a foreign observer, this would be no different than warnings of the boogeyman, or Santa Claus leaving a lump of coal in ones' stocking.

To Ezilian, though, stories had come true. He had come to the caverns, dazed, stunned, and losing his mind. That situation was only made worse by the vast hordes of vermin and ill-tempered beasts that roamed the cavern. Unable to turn around, he had kept on going until he had reached the final antechamber to the exit.

The floor was virtually nonexistent, with only a few tiles hanging above the waves beyond the small patch of grass at the room's entrance. On the opposite side of the long chamber, Ezilian had nearly gone nauseous at the sight of a decomposing snake. What made it truly imposing was the size of it; had its tail end been uncoiled, it would have been longer than Hapo Omoy's hut from side to side. Fighting off the effect of the stench of the rotting flesh and buzzing flies and maggots, Ezilian tried to turn around to leave, only to find his exit blocked by a slab of stone that slammed down behind him.

The noise of that, and his curse had brought something else into the room. The water had rumbled and quivered for a moment, then given way to another giant serpentine head that moved up and out of the water, forked tongue flickering out for a moment as it looked down at him.

In his right mind, and with a little more courage, Ezilian could have fought against the beast and subdued it with his command of _Shilivre._ But he wasn't in his right mind. Confused, terrified, and now mentally exhausted, he could do little but succumb to the rising terror in his chest and cower in the corner.

It only surprised him further when Mike Jones, the same youth who was the cause of his distress, suddenly came through the same doorway he had been locked out of. Ezilian broke free of the snake's gaze to look up at the new arrival, stunned.

"Mike? What…what are you…"

"Saving your butt." Mike snapped. He looked up, meeting the hissing stare of the giant serpent above him. His gaze glanced down to the corpse of the C-Serpent he had destroyed a month ago in his first journey through the caverns. Something clicked in his mind, and he shook his head.

"Well, I'll be. C-Serpent had a mate." He exhaled.

Ezilian, their prior dispute forgotten in the terror of the moment, clutched onto his leg. "We have to get out of here!" Ezilian pleaded. "These…these caves, they're full of monsters!"

"I know." Mike said drily. "But we can't go out the way we came in. We have to keep going forward." Mike turned to look up at the snake. "Which means…we have to get through momma snake first."

Ezilian gulped. "You…you can take it down?"

Mike pulled another baseball from his dwindling bag and shrugged his shoulders, fear somehow beyond him as he stood in front of the beast. There was only one monster he had ever been afraid of.

And he was dead.

"Let's hope so." Mike replied coldly. "Just stay out of the way and watch my back."

Ezilian thought for a moment, then nodded, a bit of his superior air returning. "Do your stuff, Jones."

Mike jumped off of the grassy land and onto the first tile, staring down the beast in front of him. "I don't know why you and the rest of the critters in the caverns have decided to come back." He began slowly, fingering the ball in his hand, holding it behind his back. The snake bobbed back a ways, standing protectively in front of the corpse of its mate, its forked tongue sliding in and out as it sensed him.

Mike narrowed his eyes. "But you don't belong here. Last chance, monster. Get out of my way, or die."

The snake let out a ferocious warbling chirp and lunged at him, fangs bared. Mike reacted quickly, jumping up into the air with a powerful spring of his legs, his feet coming down on the snake's soft nose and slamming the sea serpent into the tile beneath them.

"You always have to do things the HARD WAY!" Mike shouted, lifting his right leg and slamming the heel down hard into the beast's snout. The snake roared in pain and pulled back, leaving a suddenly destabilized Mike to land hard on the bag of baseballs on the tile. His initial flash of pain was crystallized in sudden fright as he felt one of his feet slip into the water around them, and he snapped it back, rising to his feet.

His heart pounded, remembering in an instant why he never did like these caves.

He couldn't swim. One wrong fall would end it all.

"This ends now." He glowered, looking up at the beast.

The snake hissed back at him, then seemed to rear back for a moment as something collected in the sacs on the side of its head. Mike recognized the motion, jumping to a side tile as the snake belched out tremendous bursts of fire spheres that flew by him harmlessly. They impacted against the wall beside Ezilian, causing the Argonian boy to scream in sudden terror.

Mike looked at the fireballs, shaking his head.

_Dang…She makes bigger ones than the C-Serpent did!_

The snake turned about and fired again, coughing up more flammable wads from within its gullet at rapid speed. Mike yelped and jumped to the center, then left tile to avoid the firestorm.

_And she's faster…Terrific._

The snake wheeled about, opening its mouth again as its bloated neck sacs filled with air for the next blast. Mike took his chance, hurling the baseball in his hand straight for the beast's throat. "Chew on that fastball!" Mike screamed at the beast.

The baseball flew straight and true, cracking against a tender spot of flesh in the back of the serpent's throat with wicked force. The snake's mouth slammed shut from the pain of the blow, then bulged out as the fireball it had been collecting exploded in its mouth. The monster screamed in pain and dove beneath the waves with its mouth open, now left with a weak warble after having its voicebox badly bruised.

Ezilian stood up to his feet and stared at Mike, who cautiously scanned the waves of the room. "Is…is it gone?"

Mike pursed his lips, reaching out with his senses.

Two seconds later, his hand reached back into the bag at his side and pulled out another baseball. "Not even." He rumbled angrily.

The C-Serpent's mate emerged, a few trails of smoky fumes curling from the corners of its mouth. If there was annoyance and a protective look in its eyes before, there was sheer murder in the sea serpent's expression now.

"Blast it, Mike! Use one of your weapons!" Ezilian cried out.

The snake lunged again, foregoing its firebreathing capabilities for a moment as it tried to recover. Mike dodged to the side, landing on another tiled platform, his eyes never leaving the beast. "Like what?!" Mike cried back.

"I don't know…your Super Nova!" Ezilian stammered.

"It's back at the laboratory!" Mike screamed.

"Then your yo-yo!" Ezilian hollered, panicking.

The snake reared up from its first strike, then plowed forth, not even bothering to try biting the boy, trying instead to ram him into the water.

Mike jumped up in the air and hurled another baseball into the beast's eye for its troubles.

"Giskard has it!!" Mike yelled.

Ezilian's fists clenched at his sides, struggling in disbelief. "You're an idiot!"

"And you're a real jerk, Ezilian! You got a point or are you just trying to get me killed?!" Mike shot back, weaving to the side as the snake narrowly missed him again.

"All I'm saying is a baseball isn't going to take it down!" Ezilian called out.

The snake hissed and lunged at Mike again, this time opening its mouth for a strike. It missed Mike, but snagged his bag of baseballs, the force of the blow jarring Mike enough to fall backwards and rip his weapons from him. Mike screamed in disbelief as the snake whipped its head about, throwing the last of his weapons into the waters beneath them.

"Well…it won't anymore." He uttered.

Mike suddenly felt very vulnerable. The snake reassumed its original position, seeming to gloat as it stared at the two boys in front of it. Mike's hand flexed at his side, searching for an option.

No weapons. His fists wouldn't put a dent in this thing. Sure, he could try running…but he'd promised to bring Ezilian back safe as well, and Mr. Ranuforte for all his bluffing likely couldn't outpace the snake as well as Mike was managing.

Whatever he decided to do, too, it would have to be fast. His endurance, already pushed to its limit today, was dwindling fast from the small nap he'd been able to capture under Mica's watch.

So Mike, taking a moment to recover while the snake gloated over them, did something desperate. He opened up his mind again, then reached to Ezilian.

_Ezilian…Do you have any ideas?_

The Argonian boy glared daggers back at him. _**How dare you…**_

_DAMNITALL, JUST LISTEN! _Mike screamed at him. _Put aside that bogus wounded pride of yours for a few seconds and remember that we're fighting for our LIVES here! I've got nothing left! Nothing! So any options you might suggest…just SUGGEST them. Otherwise, we'll both end up dead and then where will we be? It's never my plan to die…and I'll be darned if I'm going to be dinner for some sea serpent!_

Ezilian still fumed. _**You're not the Starseer. You're NOT, you can't…**_

_I could give less of a damn, you arrogant meathead. _Mike snapped. _Starseer?! You said it yourself! LEGEND! This is real life, Ranuforte, so get it through your head. I don't CARE! I'm Mike Jones, that's IT! Shilivre or no Shilivre, THAT IS ALL I WANT!_

Ezilian slumped against the wall, shaken by the ferocity of Mike's response.

"You…Mica must have been giving you some lessons." He finally said, his face white.

The snake reared back and flared out the sacs in its neck, drawing in air again.

"Aah, sheeeeoooot!" Mike groaned, jumping out of the way as the snake sent another barrage of fireblasts at him.

_**But for as powerful as Mica is…there are some things she wouldn't be able to teach you. Even if you have been practicing for a few days…**_

_Urggh! Here's a wakeup call for you. Before today, I didn't even know what Shilivre WAS._

_**Wha…?! But, how could you…Pfah. Never mind, Jones. You want a suggestion, I've got one. One of the most simplest things we are capable of using Shilivre for is the creation of focused mental energy blasts…**_

_You mean, what you pulled on me earlier today. _Mike growled back, kicking the snake in the snout as it bit at him. _You and me and the others are going to have a long talk when we get back…assuming we get back._

_**I'm not used to throwing in the towel, bub. **_

Ezilian got up to his feet, confidence and courage restored. Visible white energy reappeared around his body, and his pupils vanished in brilliant light. He lifted his hand up, extended his arm out straight and pointed the palm at the beast.

"Burn." He hissed.

A small, but potent and deadly quick blast of light shot out of his hand, burrowing into the snake's neck and exploding angrily. The beast reared back and howled in pain, and Ezilian grinned at the results.

_**If I were to apply a term to it, it would be called the Shockwave. That's one you can at least understand.**_ _**So that's my idea, Jones. We blast it to Hell.**_

Mike shook his head. "I should have figured." He lifted his hand up, remembering how Ezilian had done it earlier in the day.

He focused his energy.

He quieted his thoughts. And he narrowed his attention to the snake alone. His hand came up.

But nothing came out. Mike's eyes came back open, disbelieving. "Oh, no…"

The snake's attention was solely on Mike still, unaware of the source of its earlier pain. But unlike all the times before, Mike hadn't been paying enough attention to manage any acrobatics.

The snake clamped down on his right leg and bit hard, one long fang piercing clean through skin and muscle and scraping alongside bone. Mike's eyes went wide and he screamed in terrible pain, the likes of which he'd never felt before.

The snake pulled back, and Mike, trapped in its maw, was dragged along with like a rag doll.

His body, overtaxed, slowly began to fade out as he was shaken about. A part of his hearing could barely make out the screams of Ezilian, and the sound of multiple Shilivre blasts being shot off. The serpent was in pain, but it refused to stop or give up. Blood dripped out of the puncture wound, making Mike wonder for a moment if the main artery had been hit.

He was certainly feeling lightheaded enough, separated from the world.

_So this…is how I'm going to die,_ he thought for a moment. His mind flashed through his memories, running on a cycle beyond control. Pleasant sensations. Unpleasant ones. But one thing in his memory slowly began to wake a part of him out of his stupor. _Crying…somebody screaming for me._

"MICHAEL!!" Came a disembodied voice, female and terrified. Maybe from his memories. Maybe from somewhere around him. Maybe from something he had just dreamed up. But he knew the voice.

Mica. Mica was calling to him.

And no matter what else was going on, that was one call he would always heed.

Below, Ezilian roared at the sea monster, watching as Mike was tossed about like a puppet, badly injured and bleeding to death. Mike had tried to focus his Shilivre into a potent psychic blast, and failed utterly. Bitterly, Ezilian fought on, trying his hardest to knock the beast into submission.

Telepathy was one of the simplest powers that Shilivre brought, if that was what Mike had.

Energy blasts were on an entirely different level.

"Come on Jones, fight back already…" Ezilian said through gritted teeth. "FIGHT!" To Ezilian Ranuforte, the situation seemed hopeless…for once the snake finished with Mike, it would come for him.

And then nobody would return back to the village.

In his slightly less addled mind, Mike focused on Princess Mica's voice, crying, calling out to him. Begging him to live. But to live, he had to be free of the snake. The snake, this sea serpent who had come to protect the corpse of her mate and to avenge him at the same time…or maybe it was something else, Mike wasn't sure…

_It has to go. _

Mike focused his stare on the monster, eyes still dull. _Leave._

The serpent paused, its rage blunted by the sudden imposing thought. A curious look overtook it for a moment, and for as physically weak as Mike was, his thoughts only became stronger, compelled by something deeper in him long kept quiet.

_LEAVE._

The serpent paused, waving back and forth in the air, lessening its grip on Mike just a tad.

_Leave, and NEVER RETURN!!_

The serpent winced, hissing for a long moment.

But the thought was received, and more importantly, obeyed.

Scarred and marred from the furious assault of Ezilian, the beast wobbled for a while longer, then slowly began to sink back into the water of the caverns, heading for the aqueous exit. Above the surface of the waves, it flicked its head to the side, hurling Mike's nearly lifeless body against the stony wall, increasing the pain to Mike's confused state and sending him into a world of stars and inky blackness.

He felt himself impact against something at first hard, and then smothering and cold in the same cue. It wrapped around him, or perhaps he sank into it. As it was, he heard his name being screamed. It sounded like a boy and a girl were doing it together, or maybe it was just one. His hearing died last.

Exhausted, the pain unendurable, Mike slipped into unconsciousness for the second time in the day.

It was a pleasant place, outside of the barely audible scream.

* * *

Mike felt pain when he woke up. He also felt lightheaded, disoriented, and drowning. Then a powerful blow impacted on his chest, and unable to do anything else in response, he reared up and felt a massive amount of water belch up from his lungs and stomach. He collapsed back down, not even able to draw the breath to groan in pain, for as much as he wanted to.

He lay there for a few moments, slowly recuperating himself. He heard a strange ripping noise, a curse being uttered, and then another ripping noise. Then he noticed that the air was blowing against the skin of his right leg…blowing against the still open and bleeding wound of his leg.

_**Damnit, damnit damnit…Jones, you've gotta stay with me, you've gotta live until we can get back to the village!**_

Mike could feel himself only getting weaker, unable to speak, but still able to think. But with his new strength…thinking was all he needed.

_I'm…dying, aren't I?_

_**Any other day of the week, I'd be glad to watch you perish and disappear from our merry little world.**_ Ezilian snapped. _**But because you came looking for me, and the others are expecting you to come back with me…You'd damn well not.**_

Mike, lost in the haze of the moment, smiled in the face of his pain.

_Aaw, how cute. So you do care…about yourself._

Mike felt a great deal of pressure applied to the wound in his leg, where it stayed.

_**This makeshift tourniquet won't stop it forever. If we don't get back to the island, you might lose this leg…or worse, die. By the stars…if only Mica were here, she could…**_

Mike chuckled in his thoughts, silencing Ezilian's frantic ramblings. _She could what? Heal me?_

He drew in a shallow breath and focused his thoughts, pushing them down to the wound in his leg…and to the damaged artery there. _We don't need her for that._

Stunned, Ezilian watched as the wound, open but with the blood shunted from it by the tourniquet, began to glow brightly.

The artery mended itself, rejoining and sealing tightly shut. Skin and muscle quivered a bit, trying to pull themselves back together.

They only got so far before Mike's head fell to the side, and he panted in exhaustion.

_Gah…That's…all I can do for now._

At last, he opened his eyes, struggling to look up to Ezilian.

There was a look of wonder, but also defiance in the Argonian's eyes.

"You're just full of surprises." Ezilian stated flatly. He looked around and shook his head. "You were going to drown after that snake was done with you…I could have let you die, you know." He suggested, a small bit of rage in his voice.

_But you didn't._

Mike looked up at him, too tired to care about Ezilian's wounded pride…but somehow sure, that despite all his blustering, he wouldn't have no matter what. He was angry with Mike. Angry with himself and his situation. But not a murderer.

With his wound sealed, his body finally had an opportunity to set to work healing itself…Ezilian exhaled in disgust, then lowered his hand and helped Mike to his feet.

"Don't be making this a tradition."

"What?" Mike croaked. "I come to save you…and you end up saving me in the process?" He winced as his weight gave out from under him, and Ezilian caught him on his fall, lifting him back up and forcing the earth native to lean against him.

"No." Ezilian grunted from the added weight. "Treating me like a crutch."

Leaning on the Argonian to support him, Mike noticed for the first time how the Argonian's clothes were dripping wet.

For as much as Ezilian complained…he had saved him.

"Come on." Ezilian grunted, starting their walk. Mike looked down, noticing that they were on the opposite side of the chamber, beyond where they had fought the sea serpent. "We have to keep going."

"The exit's just ahead." Mike slurred.

"Fantastic." Ezilian muttered. "But look at you. Some kind of hero. Hobbling along on a wounded leg, barely conscious…"

"I never said I was a hero." Mike wheezed, shaking his head. "That's something you and the others keep pushing on me."

Ezilian turned his head around, gazing at the water.

"What?" Mike asked.

"That sea serpent…I want to believe I just hit it enough that it decided we weren't worth the trouble, but…It still had a lot more vitality to go. So if I didn't make it leave…what did you do?"

"Maybe I tasted bad."

"That's a load of bull."

"You wouldn't like the real answer."

"I never do." Ezilian glowered. "But tell me anyway, or I swear you're crawling home."

Mike closed his eyes. "I told it to leave."

There was silence for a few moments as they trudged along, and curious, Mike opened his eyes back up and stared at the Argonian.

Ezilian was gazing at him in further disbelief.

"What?" Mike complained. "I'm already a freak, don't go making me feel worse."

"But you…you…"

Mike shook his head. "Did something I wasn't supposed to be able to? Used Shilivre in a way that only Argonians with years of experience should be able to? Totally biffed my landing after the snake hit me?"

Mike felt Ezilian's hand tighten on his shoulder for a moment, then the Argonian sighed in disgust and looked back ahead.

"Let's just get back home."

Mike pursed his lips for a moment. "Ezilian?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you know why I came after you?"

"To rub salt into my wounds, most likely."

"Wrong. Because you and I had to resolve a few differences."

"You don't think you're the Starseer, right?" Ezilian interrupted.

"…Yeah."

"Then that's my big one." Ezilian snorted, shaking his head. "Anything else is just crying over spilt milk…because as long as you're not the Starseer…something that shouldn't even be possible, because you're NOT Argonian…then you're just a strange little freak. And I can accept that."

"That's awfully nice of you." Mike wheezed, closing his eyes and letting Ezilian lead them on.

Their conversation ended, Ezilian did just that.

* * *

_Coralcola Village_

_4:37 P.M._

The villagers had been afraid of them, true enough. But eventually, through Hapo, Bana, and Mica's combined efforts to prove that they were still children who wished no harm to anyone, the tensions that had seeded through the village ended with much appreciated relief. Powers or no powers…

Coralcola was the only family they had left. And they wouldn't risk that for anything. Still, as the time passed, a curious thought began to work its way through them all. Mike had left almost two hours ago in search of Ezilian…and the island was small enough that if you ran, you could make it from one side to the other in twenty minutes.

Bana's warnings about a weather shift had set Hapo and the other villagers into a flurry of activity, making preparations for the coming summer squall. Only Mica and the other Argonians had the time left to worry about where Mike was, if he'd found Ezilian…

And if the two were still tearing each other apart.

As the sun began its inevitable descent to nightfall, not yet pink, but approaching it at its leisurely pace, the Argonians were still congregated in the middle of the village, anxiously waiting. Watching from the shadowed doorway of her hut, Bana looked on with minor interest.

Mica and Amethyst looked the worst, sitting at one of the tables, eyes downcast. Rozlyn colored a picture of all of them, still merrily oblivious to anything wrong. As for Bakusian and Marlin, the two had settled into a game of cards, occasionally glancing up to the north section of the village, searching for some sign of Mike's returned presence.

At the moment, Bakusian's face was scrunched up in concentration, looking at his hand. "Do you have any 6's?"

Marlin grinned at him. "Go fish."

Mica shook her head again. "He should have come back by now."

Amethyst glanced over at the Princess. "Hmm?"

"Mike." Mica stated, though it was obvious to begin with. "He knows this island like the back of his hand. Finding Ezilian should have been easy…"

"He's fine." Amethyst reassured her, patting her shoulder. "They're both fine."

Mica smiled weakly. "Yes, I suppose you're right."

"Of course I am." Amethyst nodded brightly. "It's not like something tried to eat them, or…"

Her voice caught in her throat as her wandering eyes caught movement at the edge of the forest clearing that connected to the village. Two figures, one limping and dragging itself along weakly, the other supporting the first, slowly shuffled into the village.

Mica rose to her feet, the horror in her eyes preventing her from speaking. It was Marlin who gasped and spoke first.

"MIKE!" He cried out. They could all see how hurt the boy was, the massive injury to his leg, the pale look on his face. Ezilian remained stonefaced, dragging the boy along.

Mica and the others ran up to them, and Ezilian was glad to drop Mike into the more concerned hands of Marlin and Bakusian, who let him lie on the ground, but leaned his back against Bakusian's pillowlike chest.

Mica appeared in front of Ezilian, rage and pain on her face. "What did you DO to him?!" She snapped, swinging her hand about to slap him across the face. Ezilian's hand came up and caught hers, blocking the shot. She squirmed as he tightened his grip around her wrist, the boy's eyes flickering.

"I didn't do this to him, Mica."

"LIAR! After what you did earlier, you…"

"Mica, enough!" Mike cried out, gasping for air. His hand, raised up towards her, dropped weakly back to his midsection as she turned around to look at him. Ezilian let go of her hand and moved a few steps away. "He…He's right. It wasn't him."

Bana moved out of the shadows and appeared in the midst of them all, resting a hand against Mike's chest, feeling his shallow breathing. "You're badly hurt." She said, even if it was obvious. "So what did happen?"

The walk had taken its toll on Mike, and now safe again, he let his body begin to shut down.

"Mike!" Bana cried out, shaking him. "Answer me! What happened?!"

Weakly, his eyes rolled open again, and he fixated a glance on the old shaman.

"The caves…the monsters…returned…" His eyes fell shut, then his head rolled to the side as he collapsed into the sleep of exhaustion.

Ezilian harrumphed, shaking his head. "I ran into the caves, thinking nobody would follow me…But the place was alive, and full of creatures who all wanted nothing more than to see me hurt. Mike came after me…And he…"

His voice trailed off for a moment, and then Amethyst walked over to him, squeezing his arm. "What? What did Mike do?"

"A giant snake came up out of the water…Mike saved me." Ezilian finished begrudgingly. He glanced over at Mica. "There. Are you happy now, Princess? Your little plaything saved my life."

Mica's bright eyes glared daggers into him, and for a moment, Ezilian's bitter demeanor weakened. "He is NOT my plaything. He's Michael Jones."

"He's the Starseer!" Bakusian cried out.

Every Argonian turned and looked at him. It was Mica who moved first, a grave and quiet look overtaking her as she moved beside Mike's sleeping body and rested his head into her lap. "I hope not." She whispered.

Bana's wrinkled arms folded into her sleeves, worry evident. "The monsters have returned to the caverns…An ill omen, especially with a storm on the way."

Marlin looked up at her. "What does it mean?"

The shaman turned her head up to the slowly shifting early night sky, looking up to the stars they could not yet see.

"It means death." She finally said. "Death is coming."

"To Coralcola?" Bakusian asked, worried.

"To everywhere in the Islands of the Southern Cross." Bana Omoy replied.

It was Marlin who first realized the implications of that statement.

"Oh no…" He whispered. "Everywhere…But then…" He stood up, eyes afraid. "Giskard!! Dr. Jones!"

The Argonians all looked at one another, realization dawning on them.

If at Coralcola, the most peaceful of the islands, monsters powerful enough to badly injure Mike had appeared…

* * *

_Howduyadocola_

_Underwater Ruins_

_5:00 P.M._

The two had run for their lives, and still were attacked on the way. Vengeful water spirits created dangerous spheres of their domain and cast them at the fleeing men, more and more of the mummies like the one they had seen before rose up from the wet soil, nearly more skeleton than reanimated flesh, and all around them was the baleful moans and wails of those who sought to create death.

Still, they had only gone in about halfway through the ruins before they had turned around to escape…Every so often, one of the creatures had come a little too close, and then Giskard, armed only with the yo-yo Mike had given him, had fought it off long enough to flee.

"We're…almost there…" Dr. Jones panted, his age and pot belly at last catching up to him. Giskard was similarly winded, but in better condition. Still, he too was glad that they were reaching the exit. "Once we get to Sub-C…We'll dive and get out of here…Have to call back, tell everyone what's happened…" Dr. Jones continued to wheeze out.

The tunnels transformed back from the ruins of an actual structure into the mossy and damp walls they had met when they entered. Dr. Jones grinned, despite himself, and ran a little harder, at last pacing up with Giskard who barreled on with little regard for anything. "It's just around this corner, and then…"

They burst around the corner, their footsteps echoing off of the cavern walls. The glimmering hope in Dr. Jones' spectacled eyes died in an instant, and his feet ground to a sudden halt as he and Giskard at last saw Sub-C, their shimmering yellow floating hope waiting.

In the quiet glow of the nearly fluorescent seawater, their hearts stopped cold in their chest as they realized that they were not alone in the cavern entrance. An armored, wiry hand brushed along the side of Sub-C, curious and amused at the same time.

Even from behind, the familiar vision in front of the two explorers inspired terror.

The horned helmet tilted back down, coming level with broad shoulders. "A strange craft…meant to sail an ocean of water, not the stars." Came the low and powerful voice, calm but rumbling in its strength. In the cool and slow breeze that whistled through the cave, the figure's dark purple cape flared out behind him. "You humans really do never cease to surprise me."

Slowly, the figure turned, and Giskard, horrified to the point he could no longer talk, clung to Dr. Jones as a frightened child…which, in fact, he was.

Glowing red eyes bored out from underneath the thick and dark horned helmet of the dark warrior. "Aah, Professor…Jones. What a welcome surprise."

The archaeologist tried unsuccessfully to quell his trembling heart, then stumbled backwards a bit. The dark warrior clacked his armored fingertips together, glancing at the Argonian youth. "Hmm?" The glowing red eyes narrowed, and Giskard felt an intrusive presence blast into his brain. Unable to scream, his mouth went wide, managing a weak wheeze. "Giskard…Rorth, is it? Aah, yes. I didn't think I would find one of the Argonian whelps here. Perhaps the stars do smile on me."

The eyes narrowed a bit. "What? No attack? No focused mental retaliation?"

Giskard trembled, still unable to speak. The dark figure's eyes relaxed, and then it laughed, a cruel and rumbling guffaw.

"Why, you poor, misbegotten bastard. A mule, are you? That is ironic indeed."

Dr. Jones, able to think without fear as he recovered, and the warrior was kept busy looking at Giskard, dug into his back pocket and pulled out the same small remote he had taken from Nav-Com when they had embarked from their submarine.

Ever so gently, he lifted it up to his mouth…and in trembling voice, spoke an order he never thought he would have to give.

"Nav-Com. Emergency directive; return home. Engage all safeties."

In response, the submarine's hatch, previously open, slammed shut with a powerful hiss of hydraulics. As the dark figure in front of them turned about in surprise, the submarine sank beneath the waves like a stone, its motors whirring in a pre-programmed routine.

The figure whirled back around, and Dr. Jones managed a glare of barely managed fury at him. "Sub-C is heading back for home…They'll all know you're here now."

"You all thought I was dead once, too." The figure spoke, seeming bemused at the archaeologist's actions. The red eyes hardened. "But enough of this. We have unfinished business; you, me, and the Princess."

Giskard narrowed his eyes, staring at him. "What would you want with the Princess, ZODA?"

The alien invader, his identity at last spoken, grew quiet for a moment, then cackled a bit as he started to walk towards them. "Something I have waited many years to obtain." He began drily. "I must admit, I am surprised. I didn't think you and this aged scholar would have the strength to escape the awakening hordes of these old ruins. And to send your only means of escape away, just to prevent me from doing anything to it? No small sacrifice."

"We'll never help you." Giskard stammered. "You don't belong here…not here! These ruins are sacred, and you profane them with your very presence!"

"Do I?" Zoda smirked, his metal gauntlet's fingers clacking together. "Tell me, what is this place then, my dear powerless Argonian?"

Giskard took a step forward, curling his fist around the yo-yo hidden within. "It is a base set up by the Starseekers long ago…It is a place of peace, of learning, of Argonian GLORY!"

Taking his chance, Giskard swung his arm forward, hurling the yo-yo's spinning edge towards the alien invader's face. The demon widened his red eyes for a moment, then seemed to disappear in a blink.

A moment later, he appeared behind Giskard and slammed both hands into the base of the Argonian's skull, knocking the boy unconscious in one devastating blow.

Dr. Jones fell to his knees, defeated and speechless as the yo-yo unwound out all of its string and rolled to a stop on the rough cavern floor. Zoda walked over to the toy and plucked it up between thumb and forefinger, laughing at it.

"Amazing…he fights me with a toy?" Zoda tossed the yo-yo back to Dr. Jones, who caught it with a hopeless stare. "Aah, the fighting spirit runs strong in the Argonian race. But not strong enough."

The trudging and shuffling feet came towards them, accompanied by the moans. A drove of mummies appeared at the cavern exit, stopping and waiting for some sort of a cue.

Dr. Jones went over to Giskard, picking the unconscious and bleeding boy up in his arms, staring at the undead horde. "Why are they just standing there?" He whispered, blinking through his glasses.

In response, Zoda walked up beside him, resting a cold and metallic hand on his shoulder, squeezing firmly enough to make the archaeologist wince.

"They wait because I have not told them what to do yet." Zoda said calmly, pushing the archaeologist forward to them.

The mummies parted their ranks, allowing them passage through.

"But…how? How can you order them around?" Dr. Jones stammered, disbelievingly.

Zoda laughed for a moment, eyes cruel. "Please, Professor Jones. Haven't you figured it out by now?"

The archaeologist tilted his head about enough to shake his head.

Zoda shook his head. "Perhaps I give you too much credit. You are, after all…only human."

Still, the Doctor stared at the alien blankly.

Zoda exhaled, now frustrated. "A good servant will always recognize its master…even if they haven't seen him for four thousand years."

Dr. Jones felt a strange stinging sensation at the back of his neck, then sudden sleepiness overcame him, and he collapsed to the floor.

"Welcome to my home, Professor." Zoda said darkly, as the archaeologist collapsed into a drug induced sleep.

The last thing he felt before he passed completely into unconsciousness was the sensation of rotting, emaciated hands picking him up, and the ground rubbing against his legs as he was dragged back into the depths of the ruins.

_Not again…Mike…Princess Mica…You have to stop him…_


	6. Storm's Fury

_**STARTROPICS: FOLLOW THE SOUTHERN CROSS**_

By Eric 'Erico' Lawson

**CHAPTER FIVE: STORM'S FURY**

"_Archaeologists have long speculated over who the Starseer was…Beyond the legend, who was the man? Shilivre and Ellini aside, he had been somebody before the Sun's Loss, and afterwards, he was famous, but lost to us. What we do know is that he was of the northern tribes…He came from the lands on Argonia where snow and rain were the constants, and the sun the rarity. Furthermore, he was unknown. No record of his real name exists, but this is not surprising. It seems surprising that so famous a person, so critical a figure in our history would remain obscured in myth and legend…_

_In the end, we cease to worry if he was real or not, and we believe what we will._

_The Starseer, just as with Shilivre, is more a matter of faith than reality."_

_-Tervar Gronusk, Argonian Healer_

* * *

It would have been too simple for him to simply turn about into the mountains of the north and vanish as unpredictably as he had come; For as much as he wanted that to be how destiny played out, the ringing second line in his vision was bringing out a further continuation to this line.  
He could hear her approach in the background; that was the one remarkable thing about their people, they all had exceptional hearing. He shut his eyes, bowing his head down and praying a second time, to the spirits in the stars above, that she wasn't doing this.

But she was. And it was that which tore him apart.

At last, she came close enough by her harried pace that he was within earshot of her pants, and her soft and gentle voice. "No...don't leave..."  
He opened his eyes and stood tall, Ellini dangling at his side with its chain links brushing lightly against the sharp studded head that glimmered like the stars themselves. In an casual outfit, thick enough to give comfort in the foreboding climates of the mountains which he had come from, he no longer looked like the mythical 'Starseer' that all the rest of his people clamored to praise him as.  
"Sellarus." He began, his voice cracking from the strain. "I can't stay." He turned about, his wild reddish brown hair waving in the wind beside his face, only heightening the bright blue eyes that gave him the sight that had made him a savior...Eyes that threatened to break out in tears.  
She stood against the wind that blew down the mountainside, her own face already tear-stricken and her simple, worn dress rolling gently around her. Sellarus Argos...even now, as beautiful as when they had first met. "Why do you have to leave?"  
Angrily, he screamed a silent blasphemy at the spirits above. He felt terrible for doing this, but he knew she felt worse. But destiny had written their stories...and he knew he could not interfere. If their people were to survive, then all would have to carry out as he knew it so. And there, he damned the double edged sword he had been given...

The Star Devils. The Sun's Loss. Out of the very heavens that his people revered, vile invaders of potent force and unspeakable horror had come, with only the single invasive thought of extermination. Their population, once whole and strong, grazing their world like the flocks they tended, had been scattered into pieces, little pockets that hid out deep underneath the earth and waited for a day when the sun would return. Sellarus...Sellarus and her tribe had been the one he had come to, after his awakening. It was her people who had helped him to overcome the Devils and push them back into the oblivion from where they had once come.  
Ellini...his weapon, had been his arm, long and reaching, striking all down who dared to cross him. But even more importantly than that had been the gift that the spirits of the stars themselves, in the high mountains, had given to him.  
They had opened his eyes...shown him the true nature of the Star Devils, not as undefeatable monsters, but beings all too frail, but with a thirst for dominance that overrode all. And he had been given the gift that they called 'Shilivre'...  
Only with all of them had he been able to overcome the Star Devils. Only with Sellarus' help, the bravest woman of the village who had befriended him after his coming, had he been able to triumph over the leader of the Star Devils, a beast that had the night billow out behind him, whose eyes glowed like coalfire, and whose head had been a solid horned block of glimmering stone.  
Only Sellarus. He had used his own strength to awaken hers...for what he had found was that his strength could imbue others as well. But more than that, as they fought, as they struggled, and as they lived, he found where there had once been a woman driven by desperation and rage at their state, a newer one of resolve, tenacity, and steely determination had arisen.

And he, like the fool he had been, had fallen in love with her, and she, as only fate could dictate, with him as well.  
"I cannot stay." He said hollowly, feeling his heart fracture apart even more. "My...my place is not here, I do not belong."  
"LIAR!" Sellarus screamed, a scream not of anger, but desperation. Soon after came the choking sobs, and a locus of light began to surround her. The light of Shilivre, the light he had given her, now reached out towards him as only she could make it, and touched his mind. And he knew...knew her pain, knew her anguish, knew how by even walking towards that mountain, by turning away from the others, by turning away from her...he was killing her. She collapsed onto her knees, still sobbing. "...Liar..."  
He could not ignore her. His vision blared angrily, told him he had to leave.

Damn his vision.  
In moments, he was on the ground beside her, pulling her close into him and gently stroking her back, feeling the spasms of pain fade away and her sobs lessen. His heartbeat, his scent, and his gentle touch had always calmed her, as it did now.  
"I'll die without you." Sellarus gasped, burying her face into his shoulder. "I love you, don't you get that?"  
"You can't love me." He whispered back, fighting his own tears. "Don't you get it?? I'm not in control here...If I was...Oh, if I WAS...I would forget everything. I would die just to stay with you, and I would pull my eyes out and live blind in your warmth!"

"You're not being controlled!" She argued with another sob. "I don't care what the others say...I don't care if you're the Starseer, I don't care about the Star Devils, and I don't care about destiny!"  
_I...All I care about...Is you..._  
The vision came again, clear, defined, persistent. Once more, it blared out its omniscient will, the course of his life, and her life. Two threads, skimming ever so close...  
Then veering sharply apart. Now.  
"I put you in charge." He said, his voice so soft it was nearly a whisper, if only for the fact that he no longer trusted himself to put out a louder volume and not collapse from his own grief. "I cannot guide them to rebuild...I cannot be there for them. You have to be, Sellarus. They need you...they need a leader. And if anybody can be the leader of our people, then it is you."  
"Queen..." She mumbled bitterly. "Queen Argos. What good is that title? It won't bring you back to me...it won't keep you from running off!"  
And his voice finally did crack; his adam's apple swelled up, and he lost his ability to speak. Tears emerged from the corners of his eyes, and looking down into the magenta irises of her beautiful complexion, he lost himself.  
Their kiss came without warning; fierce and hungry, the two latched onto each other, negating air itself as their tongues danced about. They both wanted it, both needed it...  
And the visions still rang out. He broke away, and the abruptness in that move only made her fall apart even more.  
"I love you...I always will." Sellarus said, slamming her palms to the dirt. "Take that away, and I'm nothing but a shell of what I once was. I can't go on without you."  
"But you must live." The Starseer said, distant and sad. "Without you, our people will not rebuild...without you, the line will not continue, and far worse tragedies will befall them."  
"I don't want to live in a life without you in it." Sellarus stated again, her lower lip quivering. "Don't you get that?!"

In the blossoming night, The Starseer bowed his head.

* * *

_Coralcola Island_

_June 29__th__, 1990_

_9:01 A.M._

Mike stirred from his restless slumber, eyes dazedly trying to focus as the sounds of the world came back to him with ear-pounding fullness. Unable to manage even that much, he sunk back weakly into his bed, suffering to let his body act as weak as it felt.

A small haze slowly left him, taking with it the few lingering images from his dream. Or…what had to be a dream. A man and a woman, at the edge of great snowy mountains. The woman's face stayed the longest, her grief.

_Mica…Mica?? No…Not Mica, but…somehow, she was…_

The events of the previous day came back to him in a flash, and his eyes opened wide for a moment as a hand shot down to his leg…

But there was no jagged wound left. The skin felt intact, whole. As if the injury had never taken place…but he could still feel the spot on his thigh where the massive sea serpent's fang had passed clean through. Even a ghost pain was recognizable.

Exhaling softly for a moment, the Seattle native shook his head. "And just when I thought it was safe to wake up."

The ceiling clicked into focus, and he recognized his surroundings. They'd taken him back to his bedroom in his Uncle's laboratory, out in the middle of Coralcola lagoon.

After he'd brought Ezilian back, no worse for wear. His own injuries…no, they couldn't have healed this fast. Not by himself.

So either it was several days later…

Or Mica had gone ahead and healed him when he was unconscious.

Not one to ever be prone for sleep of any unusual length, the boy bet on the second option, struggling to pull himself up.

Tired muscles ached and argued against him, but Mike growled and brought his weary thoughts to bear.

_Some days, I just wish I could wake up feeling refreshed…_

A small, but noticeable locus of light surrounded his limbs for a flickering moment, then vanished leaving him with a physically enervated feeling. Slinging himself up into a sitting position on the edge of his bed, Mike closed his eyes.

_Shilivre…again, beyond my control._

Mica had tried to teach him how to use it, how to wield it. But his utter failure at utilizing the 'basic' Shockwave had humbled him to a great extent. It was a power that was unreliable, and haphazard at best.

"At least that means I can't be the Starseer." Mike Jones mumbled. He hoped beyond hope that dreams would always remain just that.

* * *

After a long shower, which removed the rest of the weariness from his aching joints and limbs, Mike slipped into a pair of blue jeans, his usual sneakers…but he looked at his closet of shirts for a few moments, feeling somehow different.

It wasn't a white T-Shirt that he reached for, he realized a few moments later as he slipped it on, but a blue one.

Funny, he thought. He hadn't worn too many of his blue T-Shirts since his adventure. Maybe because so many of them had tears and rips from his efforts. The one he put on that morning had somehow avoided the usual roughhousing, and for that, he was glad.

Obeying the needs of his growling stomach, Mike trudged out of the laboratory's living quarters, walking towards the kitchen. He paused as he walked down the stairs of the living room, looking on in awe and reverence at the sleeping girl on his couch.

Mica. She was nestled comfortably underneath a thick set of comforters, but even in sleep, there was a line of worry to her face he could pick up on at once.

"You crazy girl." Mike whispered quietly, shaking his head down at her. She made no motion to indicate that she'd heard him, still stuck in her uneasy slumber. Mike smiled for a moment, then leaned down and kissed her forehead.

That motion met with results; she stirred under his light touch, her head moving left and right for a moment before she opened his eyes and looked up at him.

She smiled back at him after a moment, and Mike rested his hand on hers. "Morning." He said quietly.

"Good morning." Mica said back to him.

"You…Have you been here all night?" Mike asked, kneeling down next to the couch.

Mica closed her eyes, thinking for a moment before she nodded. "What you went up against…We were all worried about you."

"But you, more than most other people." Mike observed quietly. "Why?"

Mica looked at him as if he was stupid. "Do you really need to ask that?"

Mike pressed his forehead against hers. _No._

Mica exhaled softly. _**You really are stupid…stupid and crazy.**_

Mike backed away. "How long was I out?"

"Just a night." The Princess replied, lurching herself into a sitting position and yawning, stretching her body out.

"And…Ezilian? How's he doing?"

Mica gave him another look. "Better than you were." She seemed to gauge her surroundings, looking about for a few moments.

Mike finally took the time to examine her. Her hair was bedraggled, she was wearing a T-Shirt several times too large for her, and a pair of sleeping shorts and socks.

She'd never been more beautiful, he thought to himself.

There was still a sense of tension about her, in her shoulders and the way she stared distantly beyond him.

"What's wrong?" He asked, resting his hand on hers.

"Nothing…everything." Mica struggled. "Monsters in the caverns? Baboo tried to get a hold of Dr. Jones last night after you passed out…we couldn't reach them."

"Well, if I recall the ruins at Howduyadocola, it's a pretty extensive network." Mike rationalized. "He is with Ezilian, after all…They likely were just away exploring. First day excitement and all."

"…Maybe." Mica whispered. "But what if the monsters returned there too?"

Mike closed his eyes. "Giskard…he has my yo-yo. They'll be all right." There wasn't much faith in his voice, and it carried a mental note. _I hope…_

The Princess turned to him. "I'm worried, Mike. It's…I don't know. A lot of things didn't feel right last night…a sense of dread I couldn't fight off. Something is happening, I don't know what, and that frustrates me."

"Dwelling on it…won't do you any good." Mike answered after a pause. "At some point, you just have to push your doubts and suspicions aside and move on with life. They'll do nothing but hinder you…Just like nightmares."

Mica blinked for a few moments, then smiled up at him. "I take it you're speaking from experience then?"

"Of course." Mike said, his mood brightening. "If I didn't, then how could I believe any of the junk I talk about?" The Princess giggled a little bit at that, but seemed less tense. Just the effect he'd wanted.

"Well, we'd best get the day started." Mike began. He stood up and smiled down at her. "You go get showered and dressed for the day…And I'll go start on breakfast."

"What did you have in mind?"

"I was thinking waffles." Mike replied, grinning. "You ever had waffles?"

The Princess shook her head. "I'll try not to be too long." She answered, climbing off of the couch and heading upstairs to the master bathroom.

Thirty minutes later, Mica ventured into the kitchen, ready for another day and looking incredibly refreshed. She wore another one of her red sundresses, a favorite in her new life. Mike was over at the corner of the kitchen's countertops, pulling a pair of brown checkered squares from a small appliance.

"So this is what a waffle looks like?" Princess Mica asked slowly.

Mike separated the two and put them on separate plates. "Ideally, yes. I've seen them darker, but that just means that you likely burned them. Now, a trick to waffles. I like to usually have mine with melted butter and powdered sugar, but you can really put whatever you want into them. A bonus to the squares in them."

Mica looked on the table, blinking. "Maple syrup…" She read from one bottle, turning to the bowl of red colored fruits next to it. "And what's this?"

"Strawberries." Mike answered, putting her waffle in front of her. "I didn't know what you liked, so I thought I'd give you a few choices. Maple syrup, powdered sugar, spray whipped cream, butter, powdered sugar, and…strawberries." Mike looked at the assortment and smirked.

"What's so funny?" Mica asked, tentatively reaching for the bowl of sliced strawberries.

"You really wouldn't need any of these toppings." Mike teased. "You're sweet enough as it is." Mica rolled her eyes at his joke, but couldn't hide the mirth in them. Mike smiled. He saw, and knew.

Five minutes later, Mica pushed the plate towards the middle of the table and look another long draw on her second glass of ice water, sighing. "Well, I've figured it out."

"Figured what out?" Mike asked, having plowed through his own breakfast with ease, already leaning back and looking towards her.

"What I like on my waffle." Mica said after a moment, smiling at him in the way that made the dimples in her cheeks rise up. "Whipped cream and strawberries."

Mike chuckled. "Somehow, I could have guessed that."

"Oh?" Mica said coyly, getting up and carrying her dishes to the kitchen sink. "And how could you guess that?"

Mike didn't say anything, letting a gentle silence overwhelm the room. Mica finally turned about, curious as to why he was so quiet.

He leaned on the kitchen table with one elbow, resting his cheek against his fist as he gazed at her with a gentle, observing smile. "Because I know you."

Mica blushed at the gesture, pushing her hair away from her long ears as they arched upwards. "You are a hopeless fool some days."

"But ya love me."

Mica closed her eyes and shook her head, going back into the living room. "Come on, Michael. We can't just hang around the laboratory all day."

"Sure we can!" Mike laughed loudly after her. "We'll just make everyone wonder what we're doing, is all!"

Mica walked out of the room, hiding the giddiness that she felt.

Back in the kitchen, Mike took his own dishes to the sink and started washing them. Not once did he stop smiling.

He didn't feel like it. Things got weird on occasion. But right now, at the moment in time he was at…nothing else mattered but Mica, and his ecstatic feelings of her and towards her.

"She loves me." Mike whispered to himself, grinning wider, almost not believing it. "She loves me."

* * *

Bana Omoy's hut was filled with a lifetime's worth of strange items and more; the heritage of all the shamans before her had been dutifully kept, and she had only added to it over the years. Many were kept on her desk, but all those had been pushed aside in a sweep of her hand. A single candle on her desk, kept burning in a glass lantern provided the only illumination she needed, head pounding as the shaman scribbled across a sheaf of paper furiously with her quill pen, stopping only to freshen the ink before continuing on.

_I should have known better than to lower my guard…now, it might be too late. Too late for any of us…_

Briefly, she recalled how she had met with Mica, and revealed in her own way how her mystical power could provide some level of competition. But while she could form explosive bolts of energy like Ezilian, and presumably, the rest could, she had an oracular sense that was tied to her. This was what the Argonians lacked.

It was why she was the shaman in the first place. To predict the coming seasons, to sense good or ill omens…

For the last week or so, she had felt little but ill omens. The last one, which had woken her up in a cold sweat early this morning, had been what prompted her into writing so furiously. If only to put to paper the things she'd long kept bottled up…things that would have to be told after the storm hit. It would be the biggest one they had ever seen, and it would take a few lives to begin with…

More, if they didn't act in time.

A hand pushed through the curtains of her door, followed shortly thereafter by the head of one of the Argonians. "Miss Omoy?" Amethyst called out, looking around in the darkness, squinting her eyes. She eventually noticed the human shape at the desk, hunched over something. "Shaman Omoy, is that you?"

The shaman paused, turning up from her work for the briefest of moments. "Hmm?"

"I'm sorry, am I interrupting something?" Amethyst asked timidly.

"If you did not have a good reason to be here, you would not be. Go ahead and explain yourself." Bana remarked gruffly, wincing at the hostility in her tone. The girl was similarly cowed.

"The Island Chief wanted to see you for a bit this morning, if that would be all right." Amethyst said quickly, vanishing back outside.

The shaman exhaled her held breath, drawing a hand over her eyes. "My fool of a brother." She muttered to herself. Her other hand lifted away from the paper, and she stared down at it for a few moments before scribbling two more sentences.

_It will have to do. I've done what I can for them._

Moving as if every joint in her body ached after a tremendous bout of blanket weaving, Bana Omoy folded the paper up and slipped it into an envelope. On the front, she scrawled one last line of text, then slipped the finished product into the sleeve of her dress. She looked at herself in the mirror as she headed for the door, slowly and unsteadily.

For once, only shadows loomed in her sight. "May the Southern Cross keep watch on us all." She whispered softly, turning away before she could catch the empty glaze she knew was in her eyes.

Chief Omoy's hut was empty, outside of the Chief himself. He was sitting at his table, going over the wooden slat that served as the fishing counter he used to keep track of the Coralcolan's daily catches. "Hmm." He murmured to himself, scrawling another few tick marks into the board. "North end of the bay's starting to run a little low…We'll have to move to the south end for a while." He was so busy pondering the island's basic functions that he did not notice his sister entering his large hut, or even walking over to him. Only when she sat down beside him did the Chief look up and grunt in surprise. "Eh? Oh, it's you, Bana."

The Shaman folded her arms inside of her sleeves, face emotionless. "Now what's so important you would have one of the children send for me, brother?"

Hapo pushed his work aside and cleared his throat. "These omens of yours…And the monsters coming back…The islanders are worried."

"As they should be." Bana replied easily. "A storm not seen for countless years is returning to the islands of the Southern Cross."

"Another typhoon?" Hapo asked worriedly. "Like the one that took our parents?"

Bana's eyes flickered, and she jerked her head to the side, unable to look at him. "No, brother. Far worse. A storm that brings back the evil spirits and creatures of the caverns of these holy islands. Yesterday, Mike was nearly lost saving Ezilian from some of that storm's work."

Hapo put an arm on her shoulder. "So what can we do, then? How do we stop it?"

Bana chuckled at that. "Stop it? What do you mean? We could no sooner prevent the trauma from this event than we could save our parents from that storm years before."

Hapo stood up, his already dark and tanned face growing deeper from the blood that rushed to it. "That doesn't help me save them." Hapo snapped. "Bana, I'm the Chieftain of this village, and I have an obligation to keep my people out of danger!"

Bana looked up to him, at last showing some emotion. "And did I have a solution for you…I would offer it." She lowered her head. "There are days…Days that I wish I did not have the gift of our family. Some times, it can be helpful." She extended her hand out of her sleeve, glancing at it as she curled her fingers. "But then…there are times when I receive my visions, and can do nothing to change it. A helpless bystander…to the inevitable." Bana pulled her hand back into her sleeve. "Perhaps it can be changed…maybe destiny can be overridden. Some have said that a prediction is only as true as you let it be. But if that is the case…and we can change fate…It is not in my power to do so. I am no breaker of the star's will. I am just a vessel for their message…unable to change it, however terrible it is."

Bana looked up at him, her face sunken. "I will not miss that frustrated hopelessness when my time to leave this world comes."

Hapo blinked at her, stunned. "But that is not for some time yet."

Bana slowly stood up, pulling her brother into a tight embrace. She kissed him on the cheek, then gave him a weak smile as she backed away. "Only the stars know for sure."

Hapo picked up his wooden slat and headed for the door. "Well, I suppose that's it then. Nothing to do but just face life as it comes, eh?"

"Brother." Bana said sharply as he reached the curtain to his abode's entrance. The Island Chief turned about, his thick brown eyes looking back at her.

Bana closed her eyes. "I don't know how much this will help…if it will help at all…But you might want to get everyone to think of something to do inside of their huts late this afternoon." She opened her eyes and nodded at him. "Maybe the storm will leave them alone then."

Hapo nodded at her, then turned and left the house.

When he was gone, Bana reached inside her sleeve and pulled out the letter she had spent most of the morning writing. With great care and thought, she placed it on his dining table, then rested an empty coconut bowl over an edge of the letter.

She fought back the tears that threatened to rise to her face. Any time for grief had long since ended.

"Take care of yourself, brother. After today, you will be the only thing that this village has left."

* * *

While many of the other villagers had slipped back into their routines, the same could not be said for the Argonians. Bakusian was strangely absent from the cookfires of Coralcola Village, Marlin's laughter wasn't echoing about the huts, and Ezilian was similarly absent when Mike and Mica finally came from Dr. Jones' laboratory.

They were walking hand in hand as they approached the village, an unconscious gesture the two had easily fallen into with the serene image that the island offered. When Mica could begin to hear the laughter of the natives, though, she slowly moved to extract her hand from Mike's gentle grip.

The boy stopped walking, then turned to look at her. "What's wrong, Mica?"

The Princess blushed a bit, her ears flattening against the sides of her head. "Well, I'm not sure if we should go into the village holding hands or not…People might talk."

Mike smiled back at the girl, slowly shaking his head. "They know that we're an item, right?"

"…Yes."

"Then let them talk." Mike said easily. "As long as we have that, little else matters." His hand gently squeezed hers again, causing Mica to smile back.

"Are all your solutions to life's little problems this simple?"

"Most, yeah." Mike replied, as they started walking towards the village again. "Simple works."

Mica looked around as they walked in. "Something…seems a little different today."

Mike followed her gaze, not as observant as she was from the getgo. "Hmm? Like what?"

Mica frowned a bit. "Doesn't the village seem a little empty today?"

Mike looked around again. "Uhh…no?"

"Oh, come on." Mica scoffed. "All right, I'll clarify. What's different about the cookfires?"

Mike squinted his eyes, wondering for a few moments if in his good mood, he'd lost a portion of his mental capacity. Then the answer hit him, and he shook his head.

"Oh…Yeah. So where is Bakusian?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." Mica replied.

Hapo Omoy strolled up to them, munching on a vegetable stalk, but not nearly as glumly as he had in the past. "Well, good morning you two."

"Morning, Chief." Mike echoed. "Say, where is everyone?"

The Chief blinked at him. "Right here, as always…"

Mica shook her head, her dark red hair bouncing over her elfin ears. "No, no. He means the other Argonians."

"Oh!" Hapo exclaimed, realization coming to him. "Well, Amethyst and Rozlyn are around here somewhere…but the boys left right after breakfast this morning, going to the south end of the island."

"I see." Mica mused, pulling away from Mike and folding her arms in thought. "Strange…Did they go fishing?"

"No, miss Mica. They didn't take anything to play with with them when they left."

The Princess glanced her eyes towards Mike, who shrugged in a similar clueless fashion. "Just what could they be doing?"

"Well, it's Ezilian, Bakusian, and Marlin." Mike answered. "Knowing that mix, not a whole lot. Still, I was going to see what Marlin was going to be doing later today anyhow…I might as well drop by and say hello."

"You sure that's a wise idea?" Mica asked cautiously. "You and Ezilian still aren't on the best of terms…"

"Ezilian's not really on good terms with anyone." Mike rebutted. "But that's more a product of his attitude than anything. At heart, he's harmless."

"Yesterday seemed to give a different indication."

"Yesterday at lunch, I hadn't saved him from another sea serpent." Mike smiled. "Don't worry, Mica. I'll be fine. We had our own little talk…we're not friends, but we're cool."

The Chief looked at Mike, confused. "In this weather? How?"

Mike chuckled. "It's an expression, Chief. Sorry about that."

Mica smiled weakly at him. "You're funny that way…once your mind is set on something, you don't let it go."

Mike nodded. "Anything else I need to pass on while I'm there?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact." The Chief said calmly. "My sister has predicted a terrible storm in the very near future. After lunch, any help they could give in weatherproofing the huts would be welcome."

Mica frowned. "The huts? Bana once told me that in terrible storms, the villagers would hide in the Coralcola tunnels."

Mike pulled Mica into a hug, shaking his head when he pulled away from her. "Those tunnels aren't safe anymore." He nodded to the Chief. "I'll tell 'em what you asked me to."

With that, Mike charged off at a brisk jog for the southern shores of the island, trying his best to remain in high spirits. It wouldn't pay to feel depressed or confused.

_Stick to what you know…And don't think too hard about the things you don't._

* * *

_Coralcola's South Shore_

The three Argonian boys were sweatsoaked from their exertions, and Bakusian was breathing heavily as well. Still, Ezilian thought through his gritted, grinning teeth, it was sweat and frustration for a reason.

"Once again, fellas…Build it within, charge it in your hand, and _let it fly!_"

Marlin, Bakusian, and between them, Ezilian, all let out a ferocious scream of anger, dazzling white auras sparkling around them as encased bolts of _Shilivre_, what Ezilian called the "Shockwave", burst free from their hands and shot off over the shoreline to the open sea beyond.

After their three shots faded into the distance, their brief potency slowly dissipating as they left their line of sight, the boys relaxed. Bakusian collapsed onto his back, and Marlin fell back into a sitting position. Ezilian swooned where he stood, but kept his footing.

The eldest boy ran his arm along his brow, wiping away the sweat that threatened to drip down in his eyes. "That's not bad…not bad at all."

"Terrific." Marlin huffed, slumping forward a little. "Now can we take a break?"

"_So this is where you all ran off to!_" A cheerful voice called out from the stairs leading away from the beach to the island's grassy main level. Ezilian froze for a moment, then turned about. As he suspected, it was Mike.

Resisting the urge to clench his fists up and let another Shockwave blast fly, Ezilian gave one brief nod of his head, eyes never leaving the approaching youth.

"All right, fellas." Ezilian said guardedly. "Take a break."

Mike jogged up to them, still smiling. "Morning, all."

Marlin waved at him. "Hey, Mike." All Bakusian could muster was a weak raise of his arm before he collapsed again. Ezilian looked at the movement and shook his head.

"So what are you all up to that's gotten poor Bakusian so winded?" Mike asked, looking at Ezilian.

The eldest Argonian boy stared right back at him. "Training." He looked around a bit and nodded. "After yesterday's little…adventure…I thought it might be best if I didn't give these fellows a refresher course on the martial uses of my people's gift."

"In other words…" Marlin chuckled weakly, running a hand through his hair, "Shilivre 101."

Mike nodded. "That's not a bad idea…Especially if we ever need to get down in the caverns again. Your talents could prove to be the winning edge if we have to fight off more critters."

Ezilian's face remained expressionless. "And why would we be going back down there again? You have a death wish or something?"

Mike's cheerful demeanor vanished in a blink. It was obvious that Ezilian wasn't in the mood for such niceties. "You just reminded me why I came here."

"Then by all means, go ahead." Ezilian replied. "We were taking a break anyhow."

"Chief Omoy was told by his sister that a storm's coming…because the caves aren't a real option at the moment, they're trying to weatherproof the huts…hunker down for the wind and rain. He wanted you to come by and help out later today; preferably, after lunch."

Marlin's face brightened up. "Well, all right! That's some good news right there!"

"Eh?" Mike asked, puzzled. "How's that?"

"Well, after yesterday…" Marlin began, stopping as Ezilian turned his head about and offered a sharp glare at the other boy.

Mike folded his arms. "Let me guess." He said after a moment of examining the hostile, yet silent interchange between the two boys. "You're glad that the islanders aren't afraid of you after the fight that Ezilian and I had yesterday."

Bakusian, having recovered a bit, grunted and pulled himself up to a sitting position. "_Yaro._ You've found the shadow's edge."

Marlin chuckled as Mike scratched at his head. "What Bakusian means is that you got it right. Apparently, we have a few sayings of our own, eh?"

"It happens." Mike exhaled after a moment. "So, can I tell him to expect you all after lunch?"

"Lunch sounds _great_." Bakusian sighed, already looking towards the village with hopeful eyes.

Ezilian smirked a bit at that. "You go ahead and tell him that. But first…I think we should finish our training here. You know…just in case things do turn ugly and we have to defend everyone. We Argonians have a power that you humans don't have…"

"Yes, Shilivre, I know, I know." Mike interrupted wearily. "Christ, just stop bragging about it already. It's good to hone your skills, sure…but the last time I checked, your little Shockwave didn't really have enough stopping power to put down that snake yesterday."

Ezilian leaned a little closer into Mike's face, his lips tightening. "Well, at least I can _use_ the Shockwave."

Mike edged himself right back, staring at Ezilian evenly. "And you're saying I can't?"

"The last time you tried, you failed miserably. You had your damn leg bitten into."

Mike stared unblinkingly at his rival for a few long moments. "Well, all right then."

Ezilian blinked. "What?"

Mike took a few steps back and readied himself into a stance. "You tried teaching me yesterday. Try again."

Ezilian seemed to consider that possibility for a moment, then shook his head. "I was a fool to think that you could be capable of such a thing. Then again, I was half mad at the time out of fear and adrenaline…I did not have the clarity of thought I do now."

Mike glowered at that. "Now what's your problem?"

Ezilian put a hand to his waist, his authority, for the moment, supreme. "Shilivre is the domain of the Argonian people, you native. It's beyond your comprehension. Therefore, your involvement in any exercise would be pointless. Now run along back to the village. You can tell the Chief that we'll be back soon enough…And say hello to Mica for me." Ezilian folded his arms. "None of us saw her this morning…but I suspect that you might know more of her whereabouts than us, being her pet and all."

Mike's eyes burned as he stood up straight. Without thinking about it, he shot a dark and aggravated thought at the young adult known as Ezilian Ranuforte.

_One day, you're going to get knocked down. HARD. And I just hope I'm around to see that day when it comes. If only to see that smug attitude of yours obliterated, leaving you with nothing but shards of yourself to step in._

Ezilian had heard him, Mike knew…Shortly thereafter, he realized he'd actually transmitted another thought. Ezilian's eyes darkened at the thought impulse, then promptly fired back one of his own.

_**You may think you have Shilivre. You might think you can understand us. But you'll never be like us, Jones. Your 'talent', if it can even be called that is untrained, undisciplined, and unreliable. So stick to throwing rocks and swinging sticks, like the primitive you are. The power of the Starseer is beyond you.**_

The other two boys couldn't hear the mental interchange between the rivals, but they could see how Mike's jaw clenched up, how he bristled as he glowered at Ezilian, and how Ezilian simply stared back at him, a look about him bordering on racist superiority.

"We'll see you all at lunch." Mike finally spat out, nodding curtly at Marlin. "Don't listen to this fool too much now. Despite what he says…I've saved him twice now. And that's more than what he's done for me."

The Seattle native turned about on his heels and stomped off, whatever good mood he had long since evaporated. The Argonian boys watched him depart, Bakusian with disinterest, Marlin in quiet sympathy for the boy, and Ezilian with his usual distaste.

"He can probably use Shilivre better than any of us could ever hope to." Marlin began bitterly. He looked up at Ezilian, who continued to stand there, chewing his jaw. "After all, he is the…"

Ezilian's head and right arm whipped down to Marlin, the hazy white field of his energy roaring to new life around his dangerous limb. The eldest Argonian's eyes flickered with something between hatred and outright scorn. "Don't you DARE finish that thought, Marlin Dellin, or I swear I will blast you straight into the next lunar phase."

Marlin's eyes burned back at him, his own weaker energies coming forth. "Mike's right about you, you know. The moment things don't go your way, you degrade into the biggest jerk in the galaxy. So go ahead and blast me. I'd love to see how you'll explain my unconscious body to everyone."

Ezilian growled at that, finishing with a roar as he turned his arm up into the air and fired off the Shockwave he'd been building up.

Reaching to the ground, he picked up the light overcoat he'd come with, slipping it on quickly. "We're done for today." He snapped. "So go ahead and rest, or play, or go eat. I don't care anymore."

Ezilian stomped off, but as he climbed up the beach steps, he turned east to the side of the island away from the village.

Bakusian got back up to his feet, recovered from the harrowing exercises Ezilian Ranuforte had put them through. "Shee. What's his problem?"

"A lot of things." Marlin said softly, patting his friend on the shoulder. "More than we can deal with. A lot of things. And as long as he's looking at a picture that only involved his world…he's got a lot more bitterness and disappointment to look forward to."

"It seems to me he's like a _dhourlik._"

"Apparently, they call that a soufflé here on Earth…but what do you mean by that?"

"He's built his world and life on a puffed up dessert." Bakusian concluded wisely, running a hand through his hair. "But when it falls apart…he's not going to have much left."

Marlin wondered just what would be serious enough to prompt such a radical shift, then shivered from his reasoning.

"Let's hope we never find out." Marlin Dellin said uneasily, leading the two of them back to the village.

* * *

_The Ruins at Howduyadocola_

On any given day, Dr. Jones would rise with a refreshed sensation, a slow opening of the eyes that seemed to trigger a cue from within that got him up and running to full steam in a matter of seconds. This particular day, though, gave him a far different courtesy call.

Rising from a dreamless sleep, a haze hung over his perception, his droopy eyelids moving apart as if fighting the planet's gravity. His body was weak, sluggish, and unresponsive. Even in his advanced middle age and growing potbelly, Dr. Jones had kept his spry and energetic nature after years of expeditions. This went against all that.

"Guh…" He mumbled, fighting off the small bit of vertigo as he forced his unsteady frame up into a sitting position. His mind was moving slower as well, as if he was recovering from a headache that despised too much blood rising to support thought. No pain. Just a haze.

Confused, he looked about. No wonder he felt so tired and worn out, he decided after a moment. He had been lying on cold and hard stone for…

He blinked. How long had he been out? For that matter, where was he?

A voice carried to him, a weak groan from behind that made him swivel his head. A boy. No…He knew this one, and his unruly ruffled dark magenta hair.

_Giskard…_

The haze finally began to ease off, and realization, as it normally would have seconds ago, began to come to the archaeologist. About where they were. About why he felt so strange. And why there was a now finally justified sense of dread in him.

"ZODA!!" He cried out, his body shaking off the last portions of whatever had kept him docile. His hand went up to the back of his neck, and winced as his fingers brushed over a sore spot. He'd been injected with some sort of a sedative…he'd been put under. Likely so he could be more manageable. But…

_No. It's not possible. Zoda's dead. Mike…he killed him. He said he did! _

Yet, it had truly been Zoda who stood there, blocking their escape route. It had been Zoda who had somehow controlled the zombies throughout the ruins.

Somehow.

Giskard recovered a little faster than the doctor, rushing over to his side and putting a hand on the man's shoulder. "Tell me I dreamed all of that." He pleaded, his eyes seeking succor.

The man readjusted his glasses (Which, he noted, had somehow miraculously not been lost) and shook his head. "I'm…Sorry, Giskard. But it was real."

Giskard seemed to shrivel up on himself in a way that the Doctor had never seen before. He could understand it, of course. Steve Jones feared Zoda…it was Zoda, after all, who had kidnapped him and forced him to unlock the secrets of the Argonian magic cu…Argonian stasis cubes. But Giskard lay somewhere beyond that.

This was the entity that had annihilated his people, destroyed his planet and everything that he loved and held dear. There was, for a time, some brief joy for the Argonians in knowing that Zoda was dead.

Now, even that was gone.

"We're doomed then." Giskard mumbled. "We're all doomed. He's going to kill us all."

"But why?" Dr. Jones asked, shaking his head. "It makes no sense. To what purpose will the genocide of your people serve him?"

A figure emerged from the shadows of the cavernous room, blowing in from a just noticed entrance with his long purple cape billowing around him.

"It will make me feel better, for one thing." Zoda rumbled. The red eyes within his helmet glowed, turning to blink between them. "Oh, how quaint. Up for two minutes and already that thinking mind of yours is working, Professor?"

Dr. Jones fought the dread in him, remembering something that the alien invader had said the day before.

_We have unfinished business…you, me, and the princess._

"Just what do you want with me?" Dr. Jones asked, a quiet reassuring voice within him giving him the strength to speak. "You're a bloodthirsty monster. Keeping us alive must serve some purpose."

"Perhaps I'm just a sadist, did you ever consider that?" Zoda chuckled darkly. His red eyes curled up into slits. "Maybe I'm doing this just to see you suffer."

Dr. Jones shook his head. "You can't make me fear you any longer. I'm done with that."

The horned helmet bobbed a little bit, as the alien let loose with a malevolent chuckle. "You humans…I swear. You've the spirit of the stars in your emotions, but the worst of everything else. Don't bother making such outrageous claims, Doctor Jones."

The alien seemed to stare harder at the older man, and suddenly the archaeologist felt a powerful sensation running through him, tightening up every muscle and limb in rigid immovability.

His mind recognized the wave a moment later. He was being paralyzed by fear. Unnatural, mentally channeled fear.

_"You will feel whatever it is I wish you to."_ Zoda concluded dourly.

And just as soon as it had begun, the effect ended, allowing the doctor to collapse to the ground gasping for air. When he rose up seconds later, there was less bravado in his stare…but still the same defiance.

"So what do you want with me?" Doctor Jones asked, shaking his head. "Whatever it is, you can forget it. I am no longer your slave."

"When did I ever…Oh. Oh my yes, I suppose you were kidnapped." Zoda said after a moment of thought. "But not by me."

Giskard paled. "How can that be? You kidnapped him so he would translate the cipher on the escape ship, so you could get to me and the others!"

Zoda seemed to snort for a moment, a strange and humanlike retort. Then again, perhaps scorn was Universal. "I did not. Yet Zoda was certainly there."

"How is that possible?" Dr. Jones asked, readjusting his glasses.

Zoda raised up his gauntleted hands and arms, pointing them to the roof of the cavern. "How could I die and yet still be here? Indeed, you've yet to ask that, my murderer." He said, glaring at the archaeologist. "Still…managing to take down one of my ships as well. Suffice it to say I will not underestimate you this time, as my lesser self did."

It was Giskard's running mind who realized what the alien meant first. "No." He whispered.

The invader turned and faced him. "Have you just deduced something, my mule?"

Giskard raised a shaky arm at him. "You…you had _clones…_"

The red eyes in the horned helmet flashed briefly, as if in a small grin. "My, my. You've no Shilivre in you, but you have a powerful mind. And that can be just as dangerous." Zoda walked over to the archaeologist, his armored hand coming down to rest painfully upon the human's shoulder. "You and I have places to be yet today."

Dr. Jones blinked. "What?"

"You have unfinished business with that space ship the stasis cubes were taken from." Zoda growled. "The rest of the cipher… You will finish it or die."

Dr. Jones stood a little straighter despite the pain in his shoulder. "No."

The alien tilted his head to the side. "No?" He seemed to chuckle at that. "Very well then. I'll just dispose of young Giskard." To prove his point, Zoda waved a hand in the air…And three groaning zombies shuffled in from a different side of the chamber, walking towards the terrified Argonian boy with murderous intent.

"NO!" Dr. Jones screamed, jerking against the powerful alien's grip. "No, don't kill him!"

Zoda raised his hand again, and the zombies stopped walking. "There now. That wasn't so hard now, was it?" Dr. Jones felt his face burning, humiliation replacing the fear.

His bluff had been called. He was beaten.

"I'll…help decode the cipher."

"Aah, splendid! I knew there was some common sense in that empty head of yours, bumbling scholar." Zoda laughed again.

Dr. Jones looked up, ice in his eyes. "But Giskard comes with. I need his expertise with the Argonian language if I'm ever to succeed."

Zoda's eyes leveled straight. "You say true?" Dr. Jones nodded. "Very well, scholar. The Argonian mule will accompany you. He is of no use to me…and perhaps his presence will keep you in line. Just do your job and you might live another night."

"So what are you, then?" Giskard asked, grunting as the zombies behind them pushed them roughly after their captor. "Another clone?"

Zoda laughed again, a hint of frustration in his usual dark tone. "You've been a good lad, so I'll tell you a story. You've little else to do until we reach our destination."

Zoda led them through the hallways of the underground ruins stretched throughout the caverns, marching with determination, and an unnatural familiarity with his environment. Dr. Jones and Giskard followed uneasily behind as a detachment of zombies followed, preventing escape. "It was one of my clones whom I dispatched here to obtain the stasis cubes from Hirocon's last grand act of heroism. The first, and in a sense, the most powerful of them. I've been elsewhere, and thought little of it at the time. It should have been just another routine mission for him."

Dr. Jones glanced around, realizing dimly that they ventured through yet unexplored, and thus unfamiliar, tunnels within the ruins. Not wanting to interrupt the crazed alien on pain of injury or even death, he made his mental notes, all the while trying to make sense of the strange events Zoda explained to them. He was humoring them, of course.

Dr. Jones doubted very much their lives would mean anything after they had accomplished what he asked of them.

"And yet…one day, I look for the status report from my subordinate drone, expecting to find a very positive piece of news indeed. Instead, I find a brief transmission of danger, of an intruder from the ruins recovering the cubes after they had _been obtained_…And then nothing but silence." Zoda paused at an intersection and turned around to face them, his red eyes glowing even more fiercely. "Silence has only meant one thing. Death. No, my clone should have been enough. So now, my dear friends, you are faced with the _REAL_ Zoda." The invader marched over to Giskard, allowing his boots to click menacingly against the stone floors. "But that's what you wanted to know, isn't it? That I am the same bastard who annihilated your people and ruined your planet. Well, my mule, you finally have your answer. I watched the world burn as I ventured to Arruk-Sen. I destroyed everything you ever loved. And here, I've come to claim the rest." Zoda harrumphed. "Everything worth claiming, that is."

He turned back around and marched on, oblivious to how low Giskard's head hung, or how his face was clenched up in a vain attempt to prevent the tears from coming.

"So you came alone?"

"For such a simple trip as this?" Zoda snarled. "Be serious. I may enjoy killing, but even I recognize the principle of excessive force. My invader armada is not required for this."

"...Of course, there's also the fact that you don't need an army in such a familiar place as this." Dr. Jones ventured, his voice wavering.

Zoda marched on, saying nothing. Behind him, the archaeologist allowed himself a brief moment of satisfaction. Zoda's silence betrayed much.

In time, they emerged out of the unfamiliar caverns through a previously unnoticed hidden doorway in the stonework, and out into the very middle of the ruins to which the by now melted and useless escape craft used by Hirocon to save the Argonian children sat.

"I'd suggest you start immediately." Zoda growled lowly. "I've humored you quite enough for one day, and I'm not a patient man."

Dr. Jones fixed his glasses again. "We can't rightly work without our notebooks and supplies."

Zoda rasped at that, a laugh that seemed to wheeze. "Another human quality…you are never satisfied. Still, I thought of that problem." He snapped his fingers, and from behind the melted asteroid ship, another shambling zombie came with a familiar bag. It dropped the bag at the feet of Zoda, then jerkily moved to join the others. "I believe that should have all of your notes there. As for food…Well, you can rough it until I return."

"And when will you be back?" Giskard asked bravely.

Zoda's left hand seemed to clench up into a fist for a moment, as if he was pondering striking the boy down again. The moment thankfully passed, and he turned about, walking off again.

"Translate the damnable cipher, or forfeit your life here and now." Zoda said darkly. "As for when I'll be back…later today. There had better be some progress when I get back, or we'll start making…modifications to your situation. You don't need all your fingers for this sort of work, after all."

As soon as he had appeared in front of them, he disappeared. The zombies all seemed to stand for a moment, then shuffled off in all directions.

Giskard fell to his knees beside the asteroid, one hand braced against it. "I'm going to be sick."

"I wouldn't blame you…but you've got to be strong."

"He's going after the others. You had to realize that's what he meant."

"Yes. I know he is." Dr. Jones commented.

The Argonian boy looked at him incredulously. "Then how can you be so calm about it?!"

"Because, we've an ace up our sleeve." Dr. Jones replied, his face taut. "You heard him. He thinks that I am the person responsible for destroying his last clone, destroying his ship and ruining the mission weeks ago. He does not know the truth of it."

The boy blinked at him. "…Mike."

The archaeologist sighed. "Maybe Mike stands a chance against him. He'd do better than we could…especially if he uses that Super Nova of his. That's our one chance, Giskard. It all rests…on Mike."

Giskard looked about. "Even now…we're still prisoners. We can't fight our way out of here." Dr. Jones remembered the yo-yo in his pocket, but didn't pull it out. Despite Mike's best intentions, it just hadn't been strong enough to do anything useful.

"Sitting around here all day won't solve our problems. Or our questions."

"You're really going to translate the cipher?" Giskard posed, as if the doctor was somehow insane.

Steve Jones glanced at him through his glasses. "We don't have much of a choice. But…yes. I'll translate the cipher, or try to. I didn't get very far last time. As for you, Giskard, you have another mission."

"What?"

"You must try and uncover the secret of these ruins as a whole." Dr. Jones replied easily. "Whatever is in the rest of this cipher must be of incredible value to the Argonians…whatever is in these caverns is of value to us, because it may hold the key to his downfall."

Giskard blinked. "What makes you say that?"

Dr. Jones exhaled. "You were unconscious when he talked to me…I can't grudge you for that. All the same, you saw how tense he grew when I mentioned that he seemed familiar with these caverns. He knows these caverns, Giskard. In some way…it's almost as if this was his home."

The archaeologist leveled a finger at the boy. "I'm entrusting you with discovering just how that's possible."

Possibilities and ideas began to flash about in Giskard's mind…but he quieted them long enough to recognize one simple fact.

They had to act fast.

"May the stars keep watch over us, then." Giskard said shortly, nodding at the professor as he stood up to examine the room they were in.

The archaeologist turned back to the rock, and the strange, cryptic markings that adorned them.

_Well, we've been here once before, haven't we, my dear?_

"Tell me just enough to satisfy him…and not enough to doom the Argonians." Dr. Jones prayed briefly, pleading for some helping hand.

As it was…it was likely too late for miracles.

* * *

_Coralcola Island_

_12:45 P.M._

Mica, fresh from lunch, strolled back along the island's northern trail with Marlin at her side. Already they had cleared the forest, and could see the island's central peninsula with Dr. Jones' laboratory fast approaching.

"It's not like Mike to miss a meal." Princess Mica mused, her arms at her sides as Marlin trailed alongside her.

"Well, he had his reasons today." Marlin replied mutedly. "Ezilian came down on him pretty hard. They won't be breaking out into any open fights for a while, but there's still tension. Mike came by to tell us that the Chief needed some help, and me and Bakusian were being trained by Ezilian in the use of the Shockwave."

"Yes, but the Shockwave's a basic ability, isn't it?"

"Heh." Marlin chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "Not everyone practices for battle. Ezilian always did think he was tops. Suffice it to say, Mike asked Ezilian to teach him how to use it, Ezilian refused, and I…Well, I think that the two were telepathically speaking to one another." Marlin glanced at the Princess, conscious of her curious stare. "I can't be sure, of course, but it sure looked like it. And if they were, their conversation was not a happy one."

Mica let out a sigh of exasperation. "That would be just like Ezilian, wouldn't it?"

"He needs his edge." Marlin commented. "Me and Bakusian talked a little about this earlier…he needs to feel superior to everyone around him. When something threatens that, or his vision of how things should be, he tends to flip out."

Mica recalled the fight he and Mike had had yesterday. "You like to underemphasize things. I think he does more than flip out."

"So what makes you think Mike would be up at his Uncle's place?" Marlin asked, changing the topic with a nervous chuckle.

The Princess shrugged, her eyes inscrutable. "A feeling…a hunch, I think they'd call it. It's his home. It's where he feels safe. And seeing as the caves are no longer an option…It's about the only place he can go to relax after getting severely ticked off."

"Well, Ezilian would do that to him." Marlin joked. "All right, then. We'll check the laboratory. I don't know much about the place myself…this is as good a time as any to ransack the pantry, eh?"

Mica grinned at her counterpart, punching him lightly in the arm. "I'm thinking you picked up a little too much of Bakusian's personality when you were in that cube with him."

"As opposed to Ezilian's ego or Giskard's strange outlook?" Marlin retorted. "Bakusian's hardly the worst."

"…Marlin, I have to ask you something."

"Hmm?"

"Me…and Michael."

"Yeah, what about it?"

"Does it bother you?"

"I'll be honest, Princess. It doesn't bother me HALF as much as your arranged marriage to Ezilian." Marlin said, shuddering for emphasis. "It surprised us all a little…but don't worry. We like Mike, he's a good guy. And it's your life to live."

Princess Mica lowered her head a little, smiling at the response. "…Thank you, Marlin."

"It's no problem, your highness." Marlin replied easily. They ended the conversation, for they found themselves at the beginning of the trail leading along to Dr. Jones' laboratory.

He had holed himself in the underwater docking bay of the peninsula; the natural cove discovered by Dr. Jones. There was a still and tranquil beauty in the pool of water that connected to the short tunnel leading to the harbor beyond, highlighted by the bright fluorescent glow of the lights that ringed it.

In direct contrast to the natural beauty of the blue and gray stones of the cavern, a bank of computers with power cords and communication wires all running up and out of the cove to the rest of the laboratory served as a reminder of man's intrusion into earth's wondrous spectacle.

Worried as he was, Mike Jones paid little attention to the beauty of the sights around him, his eyes instead fixated on the screen which marked the position of the cove's singular inhabitant on a projected image of the islands of the Southern Cross. Tense, his hand went down to the button of the connected intercom and depressed the talk button again, belching out a brief squelch.

"This is Mike, at Coralcola Cove. Come in, Sub-C. This is Mike at home port, do you copy?" He said it for what had to be somewhere between the tenth and thirtieth time…he'd lost count. And just like all the other times, all he heard was empty void, and the occasional crease of static from electromagnetic flux in the air. The antennae for Sub-C's port to sub communications stood on top of the laboratory, and could pick up signals for a 600 nautical mile radius as clear as a bell, thanks to its height and composition.

If there was anyone aboard Sub-C capable of responding, they would have long since done so. Biting his lip, Mike looked at the display of Sub-C's position on the map again, the monochrome outlines of the sub and the islands of the Southern Cross all too unsettling in the quiet.

Sub-C should have been smack in the middle of the scattered islands surrounding Howduyadocola…yet the homing transponder, and its relevant signal put it between Miracola and Coralcola. The only way it could be there, Mike figured after running a quick set of numbers, was if it had run all night…But that didn't make any sense.

"That would mean they got there…and spent maybe all of one to four hours." Mike mumbled. "And then, to just turn around and come back…"

The worried feeling in the pit of his stomach grew back, as he recalled the previous day's troublesome rediscoveries.

Monsters had come back to the Coralcola Caverns, threatening Ezilian's life, and in time, Mike's own as he set out to recover the boy. They had only narrowly escaped certain death at the hands of the C-Serpent's wayward mate, by what Mike could only attribute to a power he did not understand, and he reminded himself, never asked for.

_I'm not the Starseer. I'm NOT._

After emerging, and a night's rest, he'd talked to Mica, and been given a disturbing piece of fat to chew on. That perhaps, just perhaps, the monsters had somehow returned to the ruins, just as they had at Coralcola…and if that was the case, then presumably everywhere else he had once fought through.

It was a very real explanation for Sub-C's abrupt change of course. The destination coordinates of Sub-C, transmitted to the cove's navigational computer log, clearly showed it was headed for Coralcola. So the monsters had likely returned to those ruins, Mike decided with more than a little dread. The monsters in those ruins had been the strongest he'd fought his entire trip, save for the spaceship…but those had hardly been 'monsters' in the usual sense. And Giskard and Dr. Jones had only had the yo-yo to fight with for their trip. Mike had at least had the "Shooting Star" Morningstar mace from Shecola to battle with in his own jog through the maze. That meant they wouldn't have been able to do as well, if things had gotten as ugly as his fears allowed him to believe…

And nobody on the Sub was answering.

A sudden noise from the corner of the cavern brought his attention about, and he recognized it as the door connected to the metal stairs that led down to the room. With an easygoing gait, a figure that Mike recognized as Marlin Dellin skipped down the stairs, staring about. He locked eyes with Mike and grinned, waving at his friend for a moment before tilting his head back up the stairs. "Hey, Mica, I found him! He's down here!"

Mike Jones frowned. "Marlin? What are you and Mica doing here?"

The Princess walked calmly down the steps, arms crossed over her chest as she looked to him. "We were worried about you."

Mike stood up from the banks of computers, shaking his head for a moment. "I'm not who you should be worried about."

Marlin looked about the cavern, his curiosity activating. "Just what is this place?"

"You remember Sub-C?" Mike asked the boy. Mica nodded, and though it took him a few seconds, Marlin did also in time. "Well, this is Sub-C's main dock…My Uncle put it here to keep Sub-C away from bad weather, so he could launch it no matter what. It also helps, because it keeps the vital communications and data processing equipment in a safe environment." Mike exhaled. "But you didn't come here to get a lecture on all the fun places in my Uncle's laboratory. So what's wrong?"

"I heard from Marlin you and Ezilian had a bit of a tussle earlier today." Mica explained, tilting her head to the side. "Is everything all right?"

Mike's face darkened. "Ezilian's not a big concern of mine at the moment. I can't reach Dr. Jones or Giskard…nobody on Sub-C is answering the radio."

Marlin frowned. "What do you mean they're not answering? Well, hold on. They'd be in the ruins, not on the submarine."

"But they ARE on the submarine!" Mike retorted angrily. "At least, I hope so…" He turned about and pointed to the tracking monitor. "See? Sub-C isn't at the ancient ruins! It's coming back home!" He quieted himself down, shaking his head. "Yesterday…The monsters had come back to Coralcola. And what if they returned to Howduyadocola?"

Mike closed his eyes. "It's the only answer that makes any sense. They wouldn't come back otherwise."

The boy exhaled as Marlin set a hand on his shoulder, comforting him. _So why won't they answer?_

Marlin drew in a sharp breath, blinking in surprise. "Mike…You…you just…"

"He spoke with his mind." Mica interrupted, folding her arms. She looked at the Seattle native. "So…you've gained more control over it?"

The young Jones shook his head, as grave as ever. "No…No, it comes and goes. That time, I didn't even mean to." He stood up, perturbed as ever. "I'm sorry…I must not be much for conversation right now."

"You're worried." Mica consoled him. "It's only natural…but I have faith in your Uncle, and in Giskard. You'll be able to ask them soon enough when they get back just what happened."

"In the meantime, we need to get you out of this place." Marlin chastised his friend. "Being cooped up in this cavern isn't going to do anything for you."

"It keeps me away from Ezilian."

"Heh…I suppose it would do that." Marlin admitted, rubbing the back of his head. "Though, he isn't going anywhere, and neither are you. And you tried tearing each other apart, that didn't work."

"Not really, no." Mike sighed. "All right, I'll come with you."

"Good." Marlin smiled, brushing his hands together. "Now, what can we do?"

Mica moved back up the stairs and out of the cavern, and Marlin went up next with Mike following behind him. The Seattle native chuckled for a moment as an idea came to him. "Well, Marlin, I think it's time I introduced you to the world of video games…"

A sudden thundering rumble shook through the cavern, as if the island was trying to tear itself apart. Mica, safe and in the house structure above, let out a panicked cry. Marlin, caught on the stairs, started to stumble backwards, too stunned to even make a noise.

Mike, still in the cave proper, looked about, shocked as loose shards of rock broke free from the ceiling of the natural underground harbor and smashed down and into his Uncle's precious computer equipment. The machine responsible for the commlink to Sub-C shorted out in an explosion of plastic, microchips, and sparks. "This place is falling apart!" He cried out, realizing as another stone smashed to the ground inches away from his feet how dangerous it was. "Get out of here!" All other thoughts of the day, of Ezilian, and his own confusing role were shunted aside for the primal sensations of fear and protectiveness that the sudden earthquake evoked.

Marlin fell backwards a bit, barely catching himself on the railing to the stairs. Mike came up behind him, his adrenaline fueled senses rushing up into him.

A rickety grinding noise from above caught the younger Jones' attention, and his eyes flew up to see a thick, basketball sized chunk of rock dislodging itself from the tunnel ceiling above the stairs…and above Marlin.

"Marlin, look out!" Mike cried, shoving himself into the Argonian and slamming Marlin's body up the stairs, falling against them.

For Mike, the action came at a price; The rock meant for Marlin finally broke free and fell groundwards, impacting thickly against his skull with a tiny crack and a burst of stars.

Mike didn't feel the terrible pain that the blow should have caused. As the stars and the inky black nightshade sky filled his vision before his eyes fluttered shut, he felt almost nothing at all...

Save the sensation of falling.

* * *

_The Ruins at Howduyadocola_

_"Juh-Halla Nek martula nor, endama kighra portus kor…"_

_**The final place the Starseekers reached, an unlikely son the King beseeched…**_

In the dim light of the cavern, brightened only by an ancient lantern one of the zombies under Zoda's control had groaningly provided, Giskard rubbed at his aching eyes with his free hand for the thirteenth time. The walls of the old Starseeker 'base', for lack of a better word, were covered in ancient script, only some of which Giskard could make out. Like the line he had repeated inside his head for the fourth time in a row just now.

"Unlikely son." The boy exhaled, wishing that somehow when he opened his eyes, the script would shift and give him a straight answer.

When he pulled his hand away and looked again, it remained as cryptic as ever. "_Inchab!!"_ He finally screamed, stomping a foot to the ground.

Dr. Jones, with his own lantern and notebooks unfolded all around him as he sat looking at the cipher on the side of the Argonian escape ship, tilted his head back to look questioningly at his assistant. "Why the sudden desire to procreate, Giskard?" He asked, a tiny bit of good humor. "Or did you mean that in the cursing sense?"

"If you can understand Argonian maledictions, then you're learning." Giskard muttered in reply. "I'm sorry, Doc. I…I'm just struggling with this, is all."

"Well, it can't be any worse than my own challenge." Dr. Jones answered. "You said it yourself; this cipher is a jumble of ancient and modern Argonian…reversed and so on. At least yours wasn't written to have its meaning hidden."

"Was it now." Giskard grumbled. "There's some things on these walls I can't make out. Sure, parts of this are ancient Argonian, that I know…but there's other things up here, markings, script that I can't make out."

Dr. Jones picked himself up off of the ground with a sigh and strolled over, jamming a hand into his pocket. "Well, maybe I can help. I need a break from my own bit anyhow."

As Dr. Jones got next to him, the Argonian lifted up the lantern and his free hand, pointing to the line. "This is the line we discovered yesterday…the part about the unlikely son, if you'll recall."

"Mmhm." Dr. Jones grunting, the ancient Argonian still much of a mystery to him.

"But we go a few steps to the right…" Giskard began, venturing across the surface of the wall, "And here we have a line of markings I can't make out."

Dr. Jones stared at the wall, frowning. "Well, this is interesting…it would have to be new."

"Eh?"

"Well, moderately new. We're not talking four thousand years old. This is more of an Arabic script, but why would it…AH!" Dr. Jones exclaimed, his eyes going wide. "No wonder, that makes perfect sense now…"

"Well, I'm glad it does to you." Giskard groused. "So what is it?"

"It's a particular dialect of the Malay-Pacific ethnic cluster." Dr. Jones explained. "A particular variant in a family of over 1000 different languages. Still, it's written in Arabic, which explains why you couldn't make it out. Ancient Arabic script and Argonian are two very different things…"

"So were these writings original to the cavern?"

"Oh, not hardly." Dr. Jones shook his head. "By the condition of the cave, you couldn't tell from a simple geologic glance, but…Arabic Script didn't transfuse out into the Southeastern Asian regions and the Pacific provinces until well into the growth of the Islamic Religion about 1000 years ago. So either the Argonian "Starseekers" as you call them, arrived during that period…or this line was added much later."

Giskard absorbed the information, then shrugged his shoulders. "All right. So do you know what it says?"

"Aah, you're in luck." Dr. Jones smiled. "All my time in the islands of the Southern Cross has given me plenty of time to refresh my regional dialects, soo…"

Giskard held the lantern closer, and Dr. Jones peered in a little closer, pushing his glasses back up his nose. His mouth opened and closed as he silently made his way through the syllables and their meanings, then stopped suddenly, blinking in surprise.

"What…?" He whispered, incredulously. Giskard frowned at him, but the archaeologist made no motion to indicate he'd sensed the facial expression, leaning back in, his fingers tapping curiously against the rock wall of the cavern.

"What?" Giskard asked testily. "Damnitall, say something, Doc!"

"I…I'm sorry, I was just caught off guard a bit." Dr. Jones apologized. He pushed his hand back to the beginning of the line, tapping it. "What it says…loosely translated of course…"

_"Into exile the unlikely son of these ruins was thrown…His past, and these ruins are forever condemned to nonexistence."_

Giskard's eyes flared open. "Nonexistence?"

"Well, it could also mean silence, death, or sleep…But nonexistence seems the most likely option." Dr. Jones answered.

"Starseekers…" Giskard rumbled, glancing about. "This place was an ancient base of operations for the Starseekers…The unlikely son? If that's the case, then this would have to be the last place the Starseekers traveled to. Unlikely son…By the STARS, Doc, it's the same person!"

Dr. Jones paused at that, then turned about with a grave expression. "It's Zoda, Giskard."

The boy blinked. "…Huh?"

"The unlikely son…I'm thinking it's Zoda." Dr. Jones explained.

Giskard snorted. "Be real, doc. The Starseekers were Argonian. Zoda's an alien invader. He tried to KILL US. Argonians don't do that to each other."

Dr. Jones shook his head. "…Maybe…maybe you're right. It was just a crazy hunch to begin with. But all the same, keep looking. Scan for any more ancient Argonian, and if you stumble across anything more in a script like this, you let me know, and I'll take a crack at it."

"What, you're leaving me?"

"I have my own project to do." Dr. Jones confirmed. "And mine is what will keep Zoda from annihilating us when he returns."

"Any progress?"

"…Only with the parts that are common Argonian." Dr. Jones exhaled. "That was how the first half of the cipher was written in; common Argonian put backwards."

"The part that told you how to free us, about Zoda, and our dying planet."

"Yes."

"So what do you know of the second half?" The Argonian boy posed.

"Just a few words." Dr. Jones remarked gravely. "It took me a while to make out if they were reversed or not; some were, some weren't. Most likely meanings versus gibberish. But those words…_Hirocon…Essence…Puzzle._"

Giskard blinked. "You…Are you serious?"

"I always am, my boy." Dr. Jones explained. "Why is that surprising?"

"…King Hirocon didn't escape the planet Argonia with us." Giskard explained, shaking his head. "He couldn't have. He had to stay behind, launch our escape ship…get us to safety. He died. So why would the cipher talk about Hirocon?"

Dr. Jones blinked at the boy, then slowly tilted his head back at the melted Argonian ship. He shrugged his shoulders.

"In a certain respect…all of you died as well, when you became suspended in those stasis cubes. If the second part of the cipher talks about Hirocon…It would make sense why Zoda would be so insistent that I translate it."

Giskard blinked at the archaeologist, clueless.

Wise and astute, but utterly useless for anything beyond academic tasks, Dr. Jones sighed. "I think…Hirocon is somehow still alive. Somewhere. Zoda wants the cipher, because he wants him as much as he wanted all of you."

"…You're kidding."

"I wish I was, my boy." Dr. Jones smiled sadly. "I once held your fate in my hands…it seems I now have the same power to save or destroy Princess Mica's father."

* * *

There was no other way now. Nothing he could say would ease the pain in her heart, give explanation, substance to his claims. The Starseer felt the cosmos push against his thoughts, guiding him towards one simple overriding thought.

_She had to know._

Gently, his hands moved down and traced the line of her jaw, her shoulders, fingers running down her sides in a quiet motion that made her melt into him with another fiery kiss. And he triggered it...In one penultimate burst of his gift, he focused his Shilivre through his thoughts... And showed her.

A world. Their world. Once somber and mired in the darkness, it rose again and flourished. Their people...Ruled by QUEEN Sellarus Argos...ruled with love and compassion, and a wisdom that went from generation to generation and was never lost..._The Argonians...Planet...Argonia_...  
She would find love again...a lesser love. To Sellarus, only the Starseer could ever lay claim to her heart, soul, and body all in one. But she would gain a king, and they would have a child. And their child...would have a child. So it would go on; the Argonians would prosper. The memory of the Star Devils, once so vivid, would pass on into old story, passed down by word of mouth and always remembered. The Starseer would be remembered, as well as his glimmering weapon Ellini. But Shilivre...his TRUE power and gift, the power she now shared...

It would be passed down through Sellarus' line, the bulk of its strength remaining in the royal family.

_But…_

_I will return._  
Years. Centuries. Millennia. Almost an epoch would come and go, until the Starseer and the Star Devils truly had become ancient mythology. And trouble would come again. But he would come again. As he must...the Starseer, the savior of the Argonian race, would return. This he had seen, and now this she saw.  
And there was more, but it was so intense, so overwhelming that as the last portion of it was transferred, she broke away shaking her head, sobbing again.  
Crestfallen, he looked down.

"I love you, Sellarus...More than anything in this world, more than anything before. But..."

"I know." She whispered, still crying.  
A gaping chasm now stood between them, and he felt as though they were shouting across it. "You must be strong, my love." He said. "For them...for me."

She nodded.  
"Your children...my power will reside in them fully, my strength will always be yours and theirs."

She nodded.

"And you must remember all that I have shown you...and to every generation that follows...to every daughter of your line...you must tell them this. Tell them what I could only show you."

She nodded.

"_You and your people will live._"

She sniffled a bit, looking up and clearing the tears away. "I live only for you, even now."

His blue eyes dimmed out. "You make this hard for me."  
"It should be hard to leave love."  
Gently, he leaned his forehead against hers, feeling the warmth of their compassion run between them. "Remember."

With the speed of a tired and aged warrior, he removed Ellini from his waist and placed it down in front of her. "Remember."  
She did not look up as he stood up, turned around, and began to walk towards the mountains. He in turn, did not look back. Collapsed on the ground, looking down at the shining weapon that her love had used to save her people, Sellarus Argos cried, his final thoughts echoing through her.

_Remember…_

* * *

_Coralcola Island_

Two distorted voices greeted his groggy head, accompanied shortly thereafter by a twinge of pain and a suffusing warmth that shortly removed what little of a headache he had left.

"…You just love to get yourself into these situations." The boy's voice echoed, incredulous but thankful.

"Huh?"

_He's…That's Marlin._

Steadily, Mike's consciousness snapped back into focus. The face of a young girl, beautiful and concerned with piercing eyes and radiant dark red tresses curling about her pointed ears, appeared in his vision. "You took quite a lump there, saving Marlin from that falling rubble."

Mike blinked, raising a hand to brush the side of her face. "…Sellarus?"

Princess Mica's eyes went wide, and she stood up, backing away from him with a look of horror.

"Heh! Quite a lump, indeed." Marlin snorted with a grin. "Still, I thank you, Mike. You saved my bacon back there."

Mike opened his voice to speak, freezing as he took stock of where he was.

_I'm not…I'm not the Starseer._

_I'm Mike._

_And that's not Sellarus. It's Princess Mica._

_…God, my head hurts._

"The…ceiling of the cavern started shaking loose." Mike remembered, putting a hand to his head and feeling the lump there.

"…Are you sure you're all right?" Mica asked him, recovering from her former panic, trying desperately to restore her former tone.

"I'll live, Mica." Mike answered after a pause, slowly easing himself off of the couch.

They'd taken him to the laboratory's living room, and let him lie on the couch.

"How long was I out?"

"A couple of minutes." Princess Mica replied, folding her arms. "A simple concussion's an easy fix. The gash on your head patched up nicely too."

"You know, you could put Hawkeye and B.J. to shame."

"…Who?"

"It's from a TV show." Mike explained. "Never mind."

"Still, that equipment down there…some of it got bashed up in that quake." Marlin said woefully.

"Parts, my Uncle can replace." Mike explained. "People he can't. Don't worry about it. Besides, it's not like he was talking to me much anyhow. I don't think I'll miss the comm system for the moment." Mike stood up, glancing about. "So what were we doing before we fled for our lives?"

"Well…at the moment, Marlin and I were trying to figure out just what could have caused that quake in the cave…"

"It…might have something to do with that storm Bana's been warning everyone about." Mike said warily, looking about. He walked over to the window and looked up at the sky. "Strange, though. The weather's still perfect outside."

Marlin and Mica wandered over to the expansive western facing window, staring towards the oncoming horizon next to Mike. By chance, Marlin's eyes glanced downward to the village…

It was then he noticed the flurry of bright and very visible energy bolts being thrown out in all directions…and a slowly growing fire.

"Oh, _INCHABIK!"_

"Marlin!" Mica chastised her fellow Argonian. The boy, eyes wide, pointed towards the village. Mica and Mike looked as well, becoming just as stunned and confused.

"What the…" Mica began, suddenly afraid.

Mike's eyes hardened, and he shook his head, turning about for the laboratory's door. "Oh, no…I hope you're all good at running. Whatever's happening down there, we need to move…NOW!"

Too stunned to argue, Princess Mica Argos and Marlin Dellin turned about and dashed after Mike as the boy flung the front door open and took off running.

Mike gritted his teeth, trying his best to ignore the minor pulsing of his headache left after Mica's treatment. His legs began to burn from the exertion as he dashed along the path leading up to Coralcola's northern side, and the path that would take him to the village.

A part of him still naggingly refused to give up wondering what that strange hallucination about the Starseer and Sellarus meant. Most of him was focused on only one thing. The fire, "Shockwave" bolts, and smoke curling up from the village in the distance. Dread overtook him, and a myriad of possibilities began to run through his mind.

_The caverns…The monsters must have started to come out of the caverns. Ezilian must be trying to fight them off, that explains the Shilivre "Shockwave" blasts…but it's a battle they're losing. _

_Bana…is this the storm you meant? _

Angrily, he roared and ran faster, leaving the Princess and Marlin in his dust as he rounded the corner with more speed than he'd ever used to steal a base.

_Please, don't let me be too late!_

* * *

_Coralcola Village_

If it had only been the monsters emerging from the caverns, Ezilian and Bakusian would have proven strong enough to beat them back with their focused Shockwave blasts. But the rumbling that had shaken the caverns of Coralcola, and dropped a chunk of ceiling from Sub-C's underground harbor on Mike's head had been no earthquake, nor a typhoon or any such other natural phenomenon. It had been caused by the powerful and roaring thrusters of a gleaming and dangerous metallic purple painted ship that soared through the air with a scream like a psychotic eagle.

The villagers had scattered, of course; cried out in fear and terror and dove into their huts, huddling together for support. For Ezilian, Bakusian, Amethyst and Rozlyn, the sudden appearance of a small, yet threatening spacecraft chilled them more than 20 years in the Argonian cubes had. They didn't scatter into the huts of Coralcola Village like the natives did; their feet remained frozen to the ground, stubbornly ignoring all screaming advice to the contrary.

In a sense, rationality and instinct were in agreement. They both realized the degree of futility in running.

They had been exiled to the opposite side of the galaxy, to a far and distant point of one sweeping arm of milky stars. Still, he had found them. There was no use in hiding.

Rozlyn began whimpering, burying herself in the hem of Amethyst's dress, trying somehow to disappear in spite of that logic. The older girl reached a hand over to Ezilian's shoulder, trembling as she squeezed it. Ezilian Ranuforte turned his head to her, his eyes alight with reawakened and troubled fire, but his jaw set. "It'll be all right." He whispered to her. "It'll be all right."

Tears flowed in her eyes. "How can you say that?" She trembled, shaking her head. "We're dead! He found us!"

"But he hasn't beaten us!" Ezilian barked angrily. "Apparently, Mike can't kill off the destroyer of Argonia. But me; I've got a couple of decades of swallowed rage and anger to take out on his carcass, and I'll be damned if he takes away anything else I care about!!" He lifted his fist up to the ship as it touched down in the large open meeting ground at the center of the village, screaming at it. "_YOU HEAR ME?! YOU'RE NOT TAKING AMETHYST AWAY FROM ME!"_

Despite the tense air of the moment, Amethyst's tears shone for a moment, in a different light. Ezilian had never admitted so publicly his feelings. Maybe it was just the approach of their destroyer that brought it about, but all the same…As she backed away from the terrified, but raging youth and held her sister close…

That single screamed admittance meant more to her than all those quiet, sweet nothings he'd wooed her with from all the nights before.

Bakusian stepped beside Ezilian, shaking his head. "This is crazy."

"Always has been." The elder Argonian retorted. "So are you going to curl up and die, or are you going to fight?"

The normally placid Bakusian gained a hard edge to his chubby cheeks, hands clenching into fists as a white field of light began to glow around him. "You didn't waste your time with me for nothing."

"Now you're speaking like a true Noble." Ezilian finished, his own white field of energy springing to life.

The ship settled down, its landing legs making deep impressions into the soil of the Coralcola terrain. Engines whined down, and a doorway on the side of the ship opened up, wisps of white vapor belching out from inside.

Ezilian's eyes went into slits, his palm lifting up to the open hatch. "This is for Arruk-Sen…" He whispered bitterly, firing a bolt.

The powerful shot flew towards the hatch, reached the edge, and began to go in…

Until a gauntleted, clawed hand rose up like lightning from inside, striking against it and sending it up into the sky, harmlessly deflected.

Stunned, Ezilian stopped himself from firing again. The hand retracted, replaced with a thick metallic boot. Then a leg. Then an arm, another leg…

And the monster in his entireity. Zoda. The Prime Alien Invader, the destroyer of Argonia. Red eyes glowed from the depths of his horned helmet, a deep purple cape billowing out behind him.

"More courageous fools." Zoda's voice boomed deeply. "I did not know Argonians still had such bravado in them."

"Die, you monster!!" Bakusian cried out, swinging his right arm in a wild throw to focus the aim of his own blasts. Shot after shot he fired, but Zoda seemed nonplussed, deflecting them with flicks of his powerful hands.

Behind, Amethyst and Rozlyn huddled, more terrified than ever as Bakusian's attempts to fight back met with failure. Ezilian's blood boiled from the failure of his strategy, and he dashed in towards Zoda with a feral scream blasting from his lungs.

"NEVER AGAIN!" Ezilian screamed, his _Shilivre_ collecting about his hand in a long coil, a whip of energy ready to strike. He swung his fist about, and the energy whip swung about, intent on gashing a path through Zoda's thick armor.

The red eyes in Zoda's helmet glowed brighter for a brief moment, and then in a blur of movement that defied explanation, he vanished from where he stood, the energy whip slashing through empty air.

"Ezilian!!" Bakusian cried out, hurling a tremendous Shockwave bolt towards the boy. Ezilian whipped out, realizing with stunned surprise the shot was not meant for him, but still for Zoda, who had reappeared behind him.

With one hand, Zoda gripped Ezilian firmly by the neck, dangling him aloft and choking the air out of him. His other hand extended out towards the approaching blast, sending it skyward for a long moment. But it did not continue on as the others had; instead, it shattered apart into a storm of smaller bolts, each which streaked down in jagged lines towards a surprised Bakusian, who could do little but cry out in pain and agony as his own attack was reverted on him. Twitching in pain, he collapsed to the ground, his eyes rolling back up into his head, overwhelmed from his blast's ferocity.

Ezilian gasped for air, his eyes bulging out. His feet swung out underneath him, kicking into empty air as his hands clawed uselessly at Zoda's monstrous grip.

"Ezilian…Ezilian Ranuforte, wasn't it? Aah, yes. Princess Mica's betrothed. No wonder you could put up more of a fight than your overweight friend over there."

Had he not been fighting for air and consciousness, Ezilian would have had the time to consider just how Zoda could be so knowledgeable about him, and about events on Argonia before his invasion. Instead, he continued to fight, gradually weakening.

"I could yet have use for you, just as I could for the other noble children…But for now, do me a favor, Ezilian. You know what I'm looking for."

_"You…Will never…Get the Princess…"_ Ezilian rasped, wheezing through the squeeze on his larynx.

Zoda seemed to shake lightly as his chuckle echoed through the air. "Aah, youth." Without another thought, he tossed Ezilian into the air, spinning about and catching him square in the chest with a powerful roundhouse kick.

Ezilian's eyes went wider than they'd ever been, his mouth opened in a silent and painful scream as the kick produced a sickening _kerrrraaack_. The now immobilized body of Ezilian fell to the ground several feet distant, the boy writhing in shock and agony as he fought to breathe with countless broken ribs.

Amethyst and Rozlyn cowered against each other, terrified at the power Zoda was able to wield against the far more capable boys. The warrior's uses of Shilivre had typically been a boy's training; for the two sisters, they had focused more on communication, speaking through feelings, as was tradition.

That was a skill utterly useless here.

Zoda stared at Ezilian's ruined form for a moment longer, then slowly turned about to stare at the girls. "Resistance brings only pain." He growled menacingly, stepping towards them. "Now, then. Be smarter than your friend over there with the visions of grandeur, little Argonians. Tell me where the Princess is."

"They'll be telling you nothing." Came a wizened, but stern voice from Zoda's right. The alien turned about, focusing on an old human woman in dark red robes, leaning on a ceremonial stick for support as she moved towards them, determination in her eyes. "Their home is Coralcola now, and we will fight to protect them."

Zoda laughed at that, deep and malevolent. "Come now, old woman. Be reasonable. You're no match for me."

Bana Omoy, the Shaman of Coralcola, paused at a distance of twenty feet from him, looking straight into the red squints of his eyes as she began to utter a short incantation. It grew into a verse, then a dull drone…But to Zoda, it was a roar, blocking everything out, ringing about in his head with painful intensity. Crying out in pain, he stumbled away from her, his clawed hands scraping at his helmet.

Just as quickly as she had begun, Bana stopped the chanting, leaning on her staff as if the exertion had drained her own vitality. "Leave this place." She said again, panting for a long moment.

Zoda took a few moments to recover, breathing heavily before turning to look at Bana with a new and curious, if not also dark, expression. "Who are you?"

"The protector of these islands, mystic to the stars…And a descendant of _Rellini-Uros._" Bana said tersely. "And you, my greatest great Uncle…have no place here."

Zoda blinked a few times, then roared in bellowing laughter. "You're serious!!" He guffawed. "Although I suppose…that does tend to explain your gift." He shook his head. "Stand aside, woman. I would hate to destroy family."

Bana took a few steps closer, motioning to the huddling girls. "They are my family."

A glowing field of dark black energy sparkled around Zoda, his clawed gauntlets curling inwards. "_They are not mine."_

Bana brought her staff up, wielding it as a weapon at long last. "If you want them, you will have to go through me."

"If you're that anxious to join the void then…" Zoda growled, drawing the dark power into his fists.

Bana only smiled back at him, shaking his head. "I fight with the stars as my ally, Uncle…A force you forsook long ago."

Zoda roared and flung herself against the old woman, who somehow withstood the fierce bull rush, a brilliant white field of energy dancing around her now as well, focusing in her staff as she slammed it across the side of his helmet. It impacted with more force than the alien could have predicted, sending him stumbling a distance away, shaking his head to recover.

"You forsook this planet as well." Bana growled. "So return to the void from which you came…it is the only place left for you."

"_DRALAKHMAR!"_ Zoda bellowed, dashing towards Bana with a powerful gash of his clawed hand. She backed away, shielding herself from the blow with her staff. Despite the resilience of her energy, the sheer strength Zoda exuded snapped the wood of her medicine stick into two splintered halves. Stunned, Bana was unable to react as he finished the charge, his other hand coming up and slamming deep into her midsection.

The old woman let out a choking gasp of pain, feeling the tips of his clawed gauntlet tear through fabric and dig deep into her weary flesh. Zoda brought her up to his eye level, the red orbs in his helmet flickering irrationally.

"...If the stars give you so much strength, then why are you so weak?" Zoda growled to her.

Blood bubbling up from her lips, Bana found the strength to grin into the face of her assassin. "…Strength…comes in many forms."

The alien invader snorted, flinging her to the ground without a second thought. Exhausted and already fading from her injuries, Bana's eyes flickered shut, accepting her failure.

She could sense them coming.

She had done what the stars had asked her to.

* * *

Mike was prepared for anything as he bounded through the thicket of the villages' northern foliage and into the warzone. Flying monkeys, hissing snakes, even ostriches with skulls and mudmen wouldn't have fazed him. All pain, all weariness was forgotten in the rush of adrenaline, the pulsing of panic. For a moment, he felt angry at the fact he'd given his island yo-yo to Giskard, realizing he might need it. And his bag of baseballs? Half lost in the waterways of the caverns, the other half strewn about in his rescue of Ezilian the day before. Outside of the Super Nova, he had no weapons to remember his island adventure by…

And the Super Nova, a weapon so devastating and full of significance that Mike never wanted to use it again, was back in his Uncle's laboratory, safely tucked away.

The fire damage was minimal; a few stray Shockwave bolts had singed the island's smokehouse, set it ablaze, but the residential structures remained intact. A little more heat wouldn't kill the meat; ruin the flavor, sure, but the islanders were safe. For now.

He was ready for anything.

Except what he saw when he ventured into the middle of the maelstrom; the center of the village.

Bakusian and Ezilian lay prone on the ground, Ezilian weakly writhing in clear pain and agony, Bakusian looking burned and unconscious facedown. No 'monsters' ran amok through the village, despite Mike's best guess.

Only one monster. More a nightmare…and one Mike had thought dead and gone.

Familiar gauntleted hands flung the bleeding form of Bana Omoy, the elderly shaman of the village to the ground in a swirl of purple fabric. There was an uncaring and cold motion to his moves, as if killing her evoked no rage at all.

Half of Mike wanted to disappear, to shut his eyes and wake up back in Seattle.

_This can't be happening…Oh God no…He can't be…He can't be…I…_

His mind raced, eyes darting to every inch of the figure in the horned helmet. He was the same, no worse for wear.

_I killed him. I KILLED HIM. He can't be alive…Bana…Mother of God, he's…_

"NOOOOOOO!" Mike screamed, a shrill combination of terror and anguish at Bana's fatal collapse slashing through the hollow inside of his chest with tremendous force.

Zoda, undeniably Zoda, paused at the sudden noise, turning about. Familiar red eyes peered cautiously at the lad who had evoked such a terrible cry, sizing him up in one quick motion.

"Not so loud, boy." Zoda said coldly, tapping the side of his helmet. "You scream loud enough to bring back the dead."

Mike's chest rose and fell, his lungs hyperventilating not from the physical exertion of his run but the sight before him. "You…You monster…"

Zoda took one glance towards the two huddling Argonian girls, then to Mike again. "I've been called many things over the years. Now then; I was just about to ask these two Argonians if they'd seen their Princess…but perhaps you would be able to help me with that, Earthling."

Mike didn't understand Zoda's demand, nor did he have enough of a level head at that moment to think the request through. His hands tightened into balls, and his eyes shed their last tears for Bana as he shook his head. "_NEVER."_

Roaring with the anguish of a wounded lion, and just as crazy, Mike rushed at Zoda faster than the alien could have predicted.

The red eyes in the helmet widened for a moment, as caught unawares at the tremendous speed Mike commanded, the alien invader was unable to respond in time. Mike knocked him flat to the ground, air rushing out of the ruthless murderer's lungs as Mike began to land a flurry of honed and trained blows into Zoda's chest, shoulders, and sternum. _"DIE!!"_ Mike screamed, stunning the alien into a brief moment of dazed confusion.

His hand snaked down to the holster at Zoda's side, unsnapping the latch with a deft movement and bringing the weapon to bear in his right hand, the barrel of Zoda's personal laser blaster pointed directly at his skull.

Zoda recovered, and his eyes went wider than they had been the entire day, as for a brief moment, shock and amazement took over. Still, he knew the devastating power of his weapon, and moved quickly, one hand swinging up and over, knocking the weapon free of Mike's grasp before turning back to backhand the earthling off of him.

Stars swirling in his vision, Mike recovered his balance several feet away from the alien, who got to his feet and recovered his lost blaster with ease, tucking it back away. "…You've some speed to you, boy." He growled lowly.

Mike brushed a hand along his lip, bleeding from Zoda's knuckled strike. "You should be DEAD." The boy snapped back, venom and tempered rage glowing in his face. "I _KILLED YOU."_

The alien invader blinked. "…What? You?" The horned helmet tilted to the side, examining him again. "Impossible." He concluded with a bark. "You're not even a true man. You're a pup filled with crazed ideas. I would remember dying to such a whelp." Zoda's fingers tightened, their points digging into his palm. "…Still, you're a lot of resolve, something that presents a problem. So the problem ends now."

Mike shook his head, rationality finally giving him a sense of confusion. _How can he…How can he not remember? I sent him falling to his death in that spaceship, and he acts as if he's never met me?!_ His musings didn't last long, because Zoda charged at him with a roar, moving with such speed that he appeared as a blur. To Mike, it was an unavoidable attack, but what froze him in place was the feeling that developed in the middle of his gut. He sensed something in Zoda's movements he never thought he would have felt.

Zoda backhanded him to the ground, knocking the wind out of his lungs before pinning him down with a hand to the boy's neck, the points of his gauntleted fingers digging into the tender flesh with a trace of blood rising to the surface. Mike gasped for air that did not come, and Zoda smirked above him.

"_You're…using Shilivre…"_ Mike gasped, hands clawing uselessly against Zoda's fierce grip.

The alien's eyes widened, the red gaze only deepening with a new appraisal of his foe. "And how would YOU know of Shilivre, boy?" Zoda growled, his fingers squeezing in tighter against Mike's strained windpipe. He thought about it for a moment and harrumphed. "The children must have been showing off, eh? No matter. Now you will tell me where the Princess is…or you will suffer before you die."

Mike's eyes went shut, his lips thinning as he kept himself from screaming out in pain.

_Please Mica, don't follow me, don't follow me…Stay away, just stay away from here…_

His heart fell when the pressure on his neck eased off, and Zoda chuckled softly to the approach of quick, but slowing, and then stopped footsteps.

"Aah, injure the children and the mother cat returns to fight." Zoda announced, looking past Mike to a distant target. The boy opened his eyes, seeing the red glow of Zoda's eyes thin out in what could only be a sickening grin.

"…It can't…You…" Mica began, her voice shaking in fear.

Mike bit his lip hard, drawing a thin trail of blood before taking advantage of Zoda's eased hostilities, smashing up with both feet into the alien's midsection. Zoda grunted in minor pain and surprise, giving Mike enough time to kick him away from him and clamber back up to his feet.

Mike turned away from Zoda for a single moment, his frantic face turning back to look at Mica. Both the Princess and Marlin wore expressions of dull horror, unable to move. Mike had recovered enough from the shock to try and fight back.

Zoda was after her. Why, he didn't know, but it could be nothing good. "RUN, MICA!!" The young Michael Jones screamed, blood seeping from the wounds in his neck as his veins flashed into view. He couldn't wait to see if she had responded, he could only hope…

He tried to turn back around, only to find Zoda's clawed hand snapped like a vise around his neck, choking him off worse than before as his helpless body was hoisted into the air like a rag doll.

"_Perish." _Zoda rasped, squeezing tighter. Mike could feel his larynx tighten, and despite his best resistance, the muscles gave way to the collapsing force of the monster's hand.

"NEVER!!" Mica screamed, her body finally coming awake to the heat of the moment. Dimly, Mike could hear her voice, but it came like a cry through water. The invisible blast of overwhelming emotion Mica shot at Zoda hit home with the force of a psychic sledgehammer, shaking his concentration and loosening his grip on the boy moments from death.

Mica and Marlin charged at him, the girl screaming blast after blast into Zoda's beleaguered frame. "LEAVE HIM ALONE!" Mica cried out, one more blast of numbing confusion overwhelming the alien as he dropped Mike to the ground, stumbling backwards. Marlin was quick, moving next to Mike and pulling him away from the alien as Mica continued to unleash her potent _Shilivre_ on him.

For a time, Zoda appeared to be fast losing the battle…but from somewhere within himself, he brought up his own scream, swinging a hand in front of him and firing off a thick arc wave of mental energy. Mica, too concerned on immobilizing Zoda, if not making his head explode, was unable to muster a proper defense. The shot hit, dropping her to her knees in pain.

Zoda stood there for several moments, breathing heavily as he examined them all. Mica, clutching herself as Zoda's engulfing dark thoughts coursed through her, fought no more. "The power of Sellarus beats in your spirit…a powerful strength." Zoda rasped at her, shaking his head. "Too bad for you you never perfected it."

Marlin growled and lowered a slipping Mike to the ground, moving to stand up and fight Zoda himself. The alien's clawed hand snapped down to the reholstered laser blaster at his side, and he fired off a shot at the boy's feet. "Don't even think about it, Marlin Dellin. You don't stand a chance." Zoda snapped.

Marlin bit his lip, staring defiantly at Zoda, no longer charging. "You killed my family…you destroyed my planet. So kill me, or leave me be. But don't threaten."

Another laser blast bored through his shoulder, and Marlin fell to the ground screaming at the perfectly cauterized wound. Zoda lowered his blaster, red eyes flickering.

"That's enough out of you, pup." He tucked his weapon away and moved over to Mica, lifting her up by her arms, suspending her in midair.

The Princess was crying, the emotions of the moment too overwhelming to fight. "You killed my mother."

"Cheer up, Princess." Zoda laughed, a dark and echoing laugh. "I'll send you to join her soon enough."

Bana was dying in a pool of her own blood. Marlin, writhing from his injury. Ezilian, only conscious enough to know that any more movement beyond the halting wheezes of his labored breathing would end his life forever. Bakusian, lying in a shocked heap.

As Zoda dragged Mica back up the ramp into his personal spacecraft, only Mike was conscious enough to struggle towards her, reaching, calling to her weakly through blurred eyes.

She looked back at him, and their eyes met. It was a look Mike never wanted to see on her face.

_**Mike…I'm sorry. He's going to kill me…I'm so sorry…**_

_Mica, no! Fight! Fight against him! FIGHT!!_

As he watched, stunned, the immobile body of Princess Mica seemed to turn paler still, her eyes casting downwards in fresh tears.

_**The prophecies…It's no use. We couldn't change destiny.**_

_It's not over! Don't give up hope! _

_**He's going to kill me, Mike. Run. Run as far away as you can, I could never forgive myself if he came back and killed…**_

_I WON'T LOSE YOU!!_

"NO!" Mike screamed, her telepathy cutting off as Zoda hurled her limp body inside his ship and closed the door after him. The ramp pulled into his spaceship, and still Mike crawled, inch by painful inch closer to it.

_No…_

_Not like this…_

_MICA!! FIGHT HIM!!_

_Please Mica, I can't lose you!_

Zoda's ship powered up, whining for a long moment before lifting effortlessly into the air and shooting off to the northeast.

Weakly, Mike's hand stretched after it.

"…Mica…"

Exhausted, he collapsed and fell into darkness for the fourth time in two days.

Only this time, it wasn't the screams of his loved ones, or the cries of his friends that followed him…

But the cruel and inhuman laughter of a nightmare he thought long dead.

* * *

_Howduyadocola_

His spare notebook was quickly filling up with musings, ramblings, and failed translations to the cipher. Only a few sections had been successfully revealed, and those did little to help him interpret the true meaning, the purpose of Hirocon's second piece of the puzzle for his children's rescuers.

The piece of the puzzle involving King Hirocon himself.

Giskard tottered over, collapsing into a cross-legged position next to his mentor. "Anything new?"

"If only." Dr. Jones exhaled, shaking his head. "You having any more luck?"

"…Yeah." Giskard nodded, rubbing at his head. "This is a relic from the Starseeker's galactic sojourns, all right; The last relic. This place, from what else I've found, is called…_Rellini Uros._"

"…Rellini?" Dr. Jones asked, adjusting his glasses. "Like Ellini?"

"Sort of." Giskard harrumphed. "Ellini, translated, means "One who shines"…The Starseer's weapon which he used to beat back the mythical Star Devils. Rellini isn't an object, though; that's the ancient word for the Starseekers. And Uros, that means end, conclusion…Simply put, this place was called 'Starseeker's End'. The history's a little more sketchy, as the writings I've found only cover the basics. They arrived, they landed, they set up shop. They tried their best not to interfere with the locals; your primitive ancestors, I imagine…and life went on normally. Then out of the blue they mention the birth of 'The Unlikely Son', and from there, it goes downhill fast."

"Downhill as in bad?"

Giskard shook his head. "Sketchier. It took the Starseekers years to cross the stars; but then they talk about the ruler of their homeland appearing before them in a flash of light, coming to bring them home."

"…So they abandoned this place?"

"Who, the Starseekers?" Giskard responded, shrugging. "I couldn't tell you that. What I can tell you is that the ruler…which has to be a king somewhere, but I'm not sure which one…only took one person back with him. The unlikely son."

"And the unlikely son did something so horrible that this place was abandoned, the son exiled, and all records of this place…"

"Rellini-Uros…"

"Rellini-Uros, right, all records of it were destroyed."

"It's starting to make more sense, at least." Giskard nodded. "…You really think Zoda is the unlikely son? That would make him…By the stars, tremendously old."

"Maybe. Or maybe space travel just takes forever." Dr. Jones harrumphed. "I don't know. It's just that Zoda's displayed an uncanny familiarity with these ruins, and anyone rationally who would have known about this place would have to be dead by now. Yet here he stands…in complete command of his surroundings."

Giskard closed his eyes. "My head's starting to hurt."

"I agree." Dr. Jones nodded, putting his own notepad down. "We can only think about this so long."

Giskard breathed for a moment, then slammed his hand into the ground. "Damnitall."

"Now what?"

"I'd almost forgotten for a moment…about why we're trapped here." Giskard snuffled, shaking his disheveled face. "I must be the sickest man alive; To forget everyone else, what's going on, all for an archaeological dig, a word puzzle!" He choked up at that, and the Professor put a consoling hand on his shoulder.

"That doesn't make you a bad person. We're in a terrible situation." Dr. Jones explained, nodding at the boy. "It's natural for you to want to distance yourself from the situation; for us, that distraction is uncovering the mysteries of this place…Rellini-Uros. It's what's keeping you sane, keeping you going forward."

"Yeah, for all the good it does." Giskard mumbled. "If we leave, those…those _things_ shambling about'll just drag us back here. If we learn anything, so what? It'll make us more aware of our surroundings, sure, but it won't bring us any closer to escaping. Meanwhile, Zoda's likely already been to Coralcola, destroyed everything in his path, and killed all the others. The only reason I'm alive is because you said you needed me."

"I _DO_ need you." Dr. Jones urged the boy. "Nobody on Earth is as useful as you are…and I'll be frank, Giskard. I haven't enjoyed going on a dig with somebody for years. You're one of the best individuals it's ever been my pleasure to work with."

The boy looked down at his hand, smiling at the archaeologist's warm words. "I…I didn't care about anything for the longest time. Losing Argonia was painful, sure…but everyone else had people they loved. My only friends were the books and histories I dove into to get away from everyone else. I was worthless to my family, to their goals, and to the hierarchy's succession. Then I come here…And everything gets turned over."

"Things take on a new meaning…when you've something to care about." Dr. Jones agreed, patting the boy on the shoulder. "Here, you have people that care about you."

"No wonder King Hirocon sent us here then." Giskard explained, smiling through his tears. "Here, at least, there's love beyond the fallacy of social appearance."

"…What did Zoda mean?"

"Hmm?"

"When Zoda addressed you…he called you a mule." Dr. Jones said cautiously. "Was that a derogatory term?"

Giskard was silent for a moment. "…To me, yes. But not to Argonians as a whole. You remember the Prophecy of the Starseer?"

"Oh, that story about your mythical hero figure of the past?"

"He had a power, which he used in conjunction with Ellini to beat back the Star Devils. It was passed on through the royal family into the Argonian population. Those that could wield it became nobles…and thus, the hierarchy was born, with those gifted with the strength of the Starseer being granted privilege and rank above the common people. My family was nobility…But I was born without that strength. Without _Shilivre_." Giskard chirruped at that, shaking his head. "That was Mica's biggest fear when we got here…that our secret power would be discovered, we'd be seen as monsters. But I suppose none of that matters now. We're all dead."

Dr. Jones blinked. "…Shilivre?"

"Yeah."

"What exactly…can it do?"

"You can fight with it. You can communicate with it. You can heal wounds, push your endurance to new heights…and in rare cases, among the legendary users, even create objects out of the air about you. Whatever…whatever you have the strength and imagination to pull off, really."

The archaeologist's eyes went wide. "…Now it all makes sense."

"What does?" Giskard asked, curious.

"Zoda…Why he wanted the cubes, the cubes that contained you and the other Argonians! He wanted that power!"

"What, Shilivre? But why?"

"Because!!" Dr. Jones exploded, now swept up in the moment. He swung his arms about. "Mike said it himself! He touched the red cube, and his weapon became the Super Nova!"

"…Creation…"

"He touched the second cube and he felt unparalleled sources of stamina well up in him!"

"…No…His life energies were increased…but then…By the STARS…"

"He wanted your power!" Dr. Jones exclaimed. "He wanted _Shilivre_ to wield for his own!"

Dr. Jones grinned like that for a few more moments, then dropped into shock as if somebody had slapped him across the face. "Oh…God no."

"What?" Giskard asked, going from concerned to frantic as he saw horror overtake his friend. "Damnitall, _WHAT?!_"

"…He was after the Princess." Dr. Jones whispered, the color draining out of his cheeks. "…Mica…"

The meaning hit Giskard harder than the Professor, and he slumped backwards, shaking his head. "Oh, please…not that…"

"He wants the power of Shilivre for his own." Dr. Jones concluded, closing his eyes. "And who better to steal it from…Than the last of the royal line?"

Giskard's conversation with the alien invader flashed back into his head.

_What would you want with the Princess?_

_**Something I have waited many years to obtain.**_

Slowly, Giskard shook his head. "I'm worthless to him. I don't have what he wants. But the others…"

"It's all up to Mike now." Dr. Jones exhaled, looking to his friend. "If he can't stop him…"

His voice trailed off. The consequences didn't need to be announced.

* * *

_Coralcola Island_

_"Mike…" She cried out, reaching for him as a black cloud with glowing red eyes slowly engulfed her._

_"MICA!!" He reached and fell short, the cloud laughing darkly as it pulled her away from his grasp. Screaming, he reached out to her._

_There was sadness in her eyes; sadness and a total lack of hope. "Run." She mouthed to him. "Save yourself…there's nothing you can do."_

_"I'm not leaving you!!" His voice gurgled as if it was underwater, hollowed. _

_Mica screamed out in pain as the black cloud covered her completely, vanishing into flaring red eyes. _

_It came closer, the edges of nightshade creeping over his feet like the coldest ice, freezing him in place. It laughed, eating Mica alive, forever destroying the most precious glow she held within her._

_He screamed her name…_

"MICA!!" With a start and a flare of pain in his wheezing lungs, Mike bolted upright, clutching at his neck, grimacing. He felt no blood from the small puncture wounds Zoda's clawed hand had engraved into his neck, though his larynx was still sore. A bandage was wrapped around his neck, comfortable and not strangling. His head hurt the worst; he'd been knocked unconscious four times in the last two days, and as an athlete, he knew that there was significant danger associated with that. By all accounting, he should have gone comatose at some point. Or psychotic.

Given the lucid dreams he'd been having through the course of his periods in darkness, the second possibility might not have been far off.

He was in a hut. His shirt was hanging on a post beside the bed,

It was Hapo who poked into the hut Mike had been placed in for recovery. There was a sadness in his eyes, even as he was grateful for Mike's recovery.

"Mike…I'm glad you're up." The Chief said, pushing through the curtains and nodding at him. "How are you feeling?"

"Like somebody stomped on my neck."

"Your injuries were minimal; with some of our palm salve, we stopped the bleeding, and cleaning you up was easy. All the same, he did a number on you."

Mike pushed aside the covers, reaching for his T-Shirt. "How…How are the others?" He asked, as he pushed through the haze of his restless slumber, focusing on the traumatic events earlier in the day.

"Marlin…He took a bad hit through the shoulder from that weapon Zoda had on him. I was able to sanitize the wound, but it will never move the same again. He's…crippled. Will be for the rest of his life."

Mike's face tightened. "Which arm was it?"

"His…right arm." Hapo said, after a pause. Mike clenched his fist up more.

_Marlin…He'll never be able to throw a ball again._

"…And the others?"

"Bakusian took a bad hit of…that strange energy. Zoda turned his own attack back on him. He's a little woozy still, but he'll be fine. But Ezilian…" Hapo whispered, closing his eyes.

Mike slipped his shirt on, biting his lip. "How's he doing?"

"…That terrible monster, Zoda…He broke almost half of Ezilian's ribs. That boy will be lucky to live through the rest of this day. If he does, it will be a long and hard road to recovery."

"God above." Mike murmured, his head twisting left and right. "He tore right through us."

"I thought you said you killed him." The Chief mentioned, a hint of irritation in his voice. Mike turned and glared at him.

"I _DID_ kill him. I had nightmares after that, Chief. I shattered his body, and sent him falling to his death in his own spaceship. I can't explain it. I don't know why he's back." The boy shook his head. "He…Didn't even know me. It doesn't make sense. Nothing does."

"Bana said there was a storm coming." Hapo said after a moment. "I suppose none of us understood what she really meant."

"Until it was too late." Mike remarked bitterly, slamming a fist against his leg.

Hapo nodded slowly, then turned for the door. "If…If you're well enough, my sister…Bana wanted to see you."

Mike blinked. "Why?"

The Island Chief turned, more pain on his face than he'd displayed all day. "She's dying, Michael."

"Oh God."

"She tried fighting Zoda…She tried, and she was dealt a mortal wound for it. We patched her up, but she's lost too much blood. Still, she's holding on. She won't die. She's adamant about that, Mike, she wants to see you."

"Why?"

Hapo blinked a few times, blinking fresh tears from his eyes. "What was it she says all the time? "Only the stars know"…So go to her. It is the last request you will be able to fulfill for a dying woman."

Mike got up and walked over to the chief, bringing him into a hug. "I'm sorry." He uttered, as Hapo's bear hug tightened around him.

"Go see her." Hapo snuffled. "Before it's too late."

* * *

Bana was resting peacefully when Mike entered into her hut, looking up at the ceiling with a strained tranquility. They had made her change clothes; no longer was she in the familiar red garb she wore in her role as the shaman of Coralcola. She rested in a thin robe of white, nearly matching her pale skin.

Somehow, she had the energy to turn and look at him, her cheeks wrinkling with a weak smile at his approach. "Aah, Mike."

He walked over and knelt beside her bed, taking her hand between his, nodding his head. "I…I was told you wanted to see me."

"I did." Bana replied, coughing for a moment. Her head rested back against her pillow, eyes turning up to the ceiling. "Michael…There are things you must know. Things you will need…if you are going to rescue Mica, and stop Zoda."

Mike shook his head. "I can't stop him, Bana!" There was frustration in his eyes. "I stopped him once…but he just came back, stronger than ever!"

Bana's hand flexed inside of his grip. "You did not face Zoda in your Test of Island Courage."

The boy blinked. "What?"

"You fought Zoda…but it was a false one. A shadow of the real person." Bana explained wearily. "The real Zoda…He is from this place."

Mike's shock made it evident he didn't believe her.

"Long ago…My people lived in these islands, refugees from the lands to the west, unwilling to face the great ocean to the rising sun. Then…strangers from the stars came. They went everywhere, explored the entire planet…But this was their home."

"…Coralcola?"

"No." Bana smiled, shaking her head. "But these islands…the islands of the Southern Cross were. They stayed at a place they called _Rellini-Uros_…The ruins your Uncle found by Howduyadocola. I only know of it from the legends passed down through my people, but it was a grand place, made with the knowledge of their explorations of Earth. In time, though, they sealed off Rellini-Uros, and lived among us, leaving behind their other lives and joining us."

Mike bit his lip. "That's one heck of a story."

"It is no story, Michael. It is the truth. One of the explorers from the stars was a woman, who fell in love with one of my ancestors. She gave birth to a son…the unlikely son, as he is called in our tradition. Zoda…Is that son."

Mike fell backwards, scrambling to get off of the ground and stand up. "WHAT?!"

"A great king…came to Rellini-Uros, looking to take them back. Only one person wanted to go; the unlikely son. So he did, and the others stayed behind. His mother gave birth to another child, a girl, my direct ancestor…it is through the explorers of the stars that I have my mystical powers." Bana grunted as she turned her head sideways, blinking at him.

_The same power…that you now have._

Mike bit his lip. "Those explorers…Are you saying they were Argonian?"

The shaman smiled. "It was no mistake that the Argonian children were sent here to flee. This…is a place known to them. When they came, though, only ruins remained. Rellini-Uros was sealed."

"Why?"

"The stories are never sure." Bana explained, struggling to maintain her voice through her waning moments. "But…they all agree that the unlikely son, wherever he went, did something terrible. As a result, all connection with Rellini-Uros was severed as punishment…and the inhabitants were banished to Earth, never to see their true homes again."

"And now, hundreds of years later…"

"The unlikely son has returned." Bana finished, exhaling. "Michael…The Princess is in terrible danger. I foresaw it long ago, the approaching storm. I've tried…tried for so long to steer you towards each other."

"Why?"

"She needs you." The shaman answered sadly. "Now, more than ever, she needs you. She will die if you do not stop him, Mike. It is your destiny."

"_THAT DESTINY CRAP IS BULLSHIT!"_ Mike screamed, his temper flaring up in a sudden burst. "The Argonians think I'm the Starseer…I'm NOT! I can't be! ZODA BEAT ME! I couldn't save Mica! Mica couldn't even save herself!" Mike raised a finger to her lips as the woman began to respond. "And don't give me any of that nonsense about how only the stars have the answers. That's lunacy."

The shaman's eyes burned into him for a long moment. "Then tell me, Mike…Tell me you haven't been having strange visions."

Mike's voice caught in his throat.

"Visions of events…long past. Events you do not believe in."

"They're just dreams…"

"Dreams come from your heart." Bana said wryly. "They tell you what your thoughts do not wish to believe."

_That you…are the Starseer reborn._

Mike's face went hard, his face shaking back and forth vigorously in a no. "I…I can't be."

"You wield his weapon. You carry his legacy. You saved them."

Mike looked at her, deadpan. "Then why are they still in danger?"

"Because. Your role…is not yet done."

"What makes you think I stand a chance? He tossed me aside like a rag doll."

"You were not armed. You were not in command of your full potential."

"I can't use Shilivre, Bana. I have it, but I can't use it."

Bana closed her eyes again. "My…My gift…was the ability to see the things only the stars knew. I cannot give you that. But I can tell you this. After Mica told her story…I asked the stars to show me everything of that event. And they did. So let me tell you what I learned, Mike. The Starseer…yes, he had Ellini, and he had Shilivre. But he had something else that nobody else did. The courage…the courage to stand up against the insurmountable and topple the darkness."

She looked at him, smiling. "You have that courage in you. You won it when you passed your Test. That cannot be given to you. If you believe in nothing else, believe in your own courage, for that will never fail you." Wincing for a moment, she fell back to the bed, more exhausted by the last few minutes than the time he'd been out. Her labored breathing frightened Mike, and he raised her hand up, squeezing it.

"No…No, you can't leave me! I need you!"

"No you don't." Bana replied, her eyes drifting shut for the last time. "You've everything you need. Just believe in yourself…And fulfill the destiny that has been put in front of you by legend."

"But I don't believe in legends. I'm not the Starseer." Mike argued weakly, squeezing her hand again. "I'm not…"

"One day…the stars will talk to you as well. And you will know for yourself…who you are." She rasped.

"I can't do this." Mike whispered, crying. "It's impossible."

"So was what you did before." Bana exhaled. "Legend or no…Michael…You are the only one who can save her. Go to Rellini-Uros…And stop Zoda."

Mike bit his lip for a few moments.

_I never asked for this._

_I can't do this…_

_But Mica…_

_Mica…_

He squeezed her hand. "I'll rescue her." He finally said, his voice grave.

The old shaman smiled with her eyes closed. She said nothing else.

Her chest rose and fell one last time, then went quiet.

Brushing the tears out of his eyes, Mike put her hand over her heart, turning about and walking out of the hut. In his heart, he still had many doubts. Without Bana, he felt lost. She'd always been a source of cryptic, but useful advice.

_And now she was gone._

Outside the hut, Mike's eyes met the anxious and worried expression of Hapo Omoy; Bana's brother, the island chief.

Mike's eyes fell to the ground, and he didn't need to look to know that Hapo felt crushed. There had been much pain on the island today.

Much death.

Mike looked back up, setting his jaw. He would check in on the others first…Just to make sure they'd be all right.

_Legend or no…You are the only one who can save her._

He didn't know a lot of things. He didn't even know anymore who he was. But there were two things he knew as he marched towards the hut where Ezilian was kept.

He loved Princess Mica.

And he would do anything to save her.

* * *

Even through the anesthetic haze of the salve that the villagers had used to numb the pain in his shoulder, Marlin Dellin could still feel the wound. He'd never stop feeling it.

Of course, laser wounds were something that he had been required to study at Argonia under the watchful tutelage of the Nobles' instructors. The shot had burned clean through, that much was certain; only the toughest of hides could prevent a blast from completely penetrating. After the initial blast, his wound had been imperfectly cauterized, with a minor chance of infection. Eventually, his body would recover the wound, leaving him with a permanent scar, but at least, no holes in his body. The one thing his body could not do was repair the nerve endings and muscle cells the attack had ruined.

His right arm moved sluggishly now. It seemed to delay its movement to his call, and it shifted oddly. It was out of place.

"Like I am now." He said dully. Sitting outside the hut where Ezilian lay in bed, half dead from his more severe wounds, the young Argonian boy was still coping with the implications that came with his new injuries.

_And I was just getting good at pitching._

"Hey." Marlin looked up to the source of the greeting, Mike Jones.

"Hey yourself." Marlin said dully.

"You holding up?"

"Princess Mica's been stolen, Zoda's returned, and I'll never be able to throw a ball right again." Marlin retorted, all humor drained out of him. "Oh yeah. I'm great." The Argonian blinked at Mike. "How about you?"

"I'm going after her." Mike responded.

Marlin blinked back. "Excuse me?"

Mike's eyes were solid. "You heard me. I'm following them."

"But you don't know where they're going!"

"Bana told me, just before she died." Mike answered easily. "He's taking her to…Rellini-Uros." Marlin looked blankly at him, and Mike shook his head. "What? No shock or surprise?"

"If I knew what you were talking about, I'd be more prone to do something else." Marlin shrugged. "Is it supposed to be important?"

Mike shook his head. "…No. Not right now. I just came to check on you and the others."

"The girls are fine." Marlin said easily. "Bakusian's out like a light; he never was able to take much punishment. Ezilian's just sort of lying in there, half dead. Amethyst is with him." Marlin motioned to himself. "And of course, I'm here."

Mike's eyes caught the grace at which Marlin moved his left hand. "Hey…Marlin?"

"Yeah?"

"You still have a baseball on you?"

"…Yeah." Marlin said after a pause. "What for?"

Mike nodded at him. "Toss it to me."

Marlin reached into his back pocket, pulling out a circular lump of stitched leather and string around a hard rubber core. Without any energy in his movements at all, he prepared to throw it at Mike in an underhanded toss.

Mike shook his head, backing up a few steps. "No. _Really_ throw it to me."

Marlin bit his lip. "Are you blind, or just stupid?! I just told you I can't throw!"

"Not with your right arm." Mike interrupted, stopping Marlin's rage. "Use your left one."

Marlin blinked at the odd request for a few moments, but began an off-balance windup and threw it all the same.

It wasn't his dominant hand, but it flew just as straight and true, landing in Mike's cupped hands.

Mike smiled, walking over to his dumbfounded comrade and dropping the ball in his left hand. "Well, I'll be. You lucky dog, you. You may favor the right hand, but you're not right-handed."

"…Wha…"

"You're ambidextrous." Mike continued, finding a small amount of joy in one saving grace of the day's tragedy. "Which means, my friend…you can still pitch."

Marlin looked at him for a moment, grateful tears starting to well up in his eyes before he attacked him in a powerful one armed hug. "Thank you, Mike."

"Thank your genetics." Mike said, patting the boy on the head.

Amethyst poked her head outside of the cabin, looking to Mike. "Ezilian…heard you outside, Mike. He wants to see you."

"Marlin told me how he's doing." Mike replied, backing away from the boy to look at the girl who was his age. "He isn't dying, not at the moment…And I have places yet to be. So why should I go in there?"

Amethyst looked stung, but nodded. "You're right. He's never given you much of a reason to have any loyalty towards him. But…please." She clasped her hands together, pleading with him. "For me, at least."

Mike drew in a long breath, letting it out slowly as he ran a hand through his hair. "Some days, Jones…"

Nodding at the girl, he walked into the hut. He wouldn't stay long. And if Ezilian made a crack at him…This farce of a meeting was over.

* * *

Bana had looked peaceful in her bed, approaching the end of her life with a quiet dignity and resilience that only true faith could bring. Ezilian Ranuforte was none of that, his right hand clenching and unclenching through the terrible gasping pain of trying to breathe with countless broken ribs. Amethyst went back to his side, grabbing his spasming hand and gently squeezing it, reasserting her presence. "Shh. It's all right."

"Amethyst…" Ezilian said haltingly, somewhere between sleep and the euphoria his endorphins caused. "Did Jones agree?"

"You can talk to me yourself, Ezilian." Mike announced, folding his arms as he walked over to the Argonian's bedside. "Christ…you look like Hell."

"You…would be too." Ezilian grimaced, his hand tensing around Amethyst's. "Mica…Did she…"

Mike blinked, looking over to Amethyst with a curious look. "You didn't tell him?" He whispered, too softly for Ezilian to hear, but clearly enough Amethyst could read his lips.

The girl's eyes went dim, and she shook her head.

Mike exhaled. "I don't know how to tell you this, Ezilian…Zoda overwhelmed us all. He subdued Mica, threw her into his spaceship and took off."

"Some…hero you…turned out to be." Ezilian spat out, gasping as his anger pushed him into more pain.

"Stop it, Ezilian!" Amethyst chided him, forcing him back down on the bed. "You can't go off getting angry again. You need to rest."

"I can't…" Ezilian grunted, struggling against the girl as he tried to pick himself up and out of the bed. "I have to…Save…" He tensed up against a hidden pain from somewhere within his chest, collapsing back to the bed with a terrible cry.

Amethyst squeezed his hand all the harder, her other hand on her shoulder as she glared down into his eyes, crying. "Damnit, you stubborn mule…You're not going anywhere! You can't save Princess Mica!"

"…I…couldn't save anyone." Ezilian rasped, his eyes rolling into the back of his head and forwards again, struggling for consciousness. "I failed…"

"I know where he's taking her." Mike interrupted. "He's going to the ruins by Howduyadocola…the ruins your ship crashed in. _Rellini-Uros._"

"…You…You're…Kidding me…" Ezilian wheezed, forcing his head sideways to glance at Mike. Even with the intense pain on his face, the earth native could make out the shock on his face. "I don't…know much Ancient Argonian, but…I know that."

"What does it mean?"

"Starseeker's…End…"

"I've never heard of that!" Amethyst exclaimed.

"No…you wouldn't have…you were too young." Ezilian noted, looking at Mike. "Some years…before Argonia fell, the records of Rellini-Uros were destroyed. It was all but forgotten, by royal decree…We simply forgot it ever existed."

"It does exist." Mike noted. "And that's where Zoda is taking Mica."

"Then…there's still a chance." Ezilian nodded.

"Oh no you don't." Amethyst warned him. "You're half dead. You're in no condition to go gallivanting about on a rescue mission!"

"None of us are." Ezilian retorted quietly. "Nobody…but Mike."

The response was so out of fashion for Ezilian that Mike had to blink and look at the older boy with disbelief. "What?"

Ezilian's jaw clenched, not from the intense pain of his condition, but something else inside of him. Finally, he looked at Mike, his fire all but burned out.

"I…I wasn't strong enough. All my training, all my power…and I wasn't strong enough." Ezilian's head rolled lazily back and forth as he tried to shake it. "Zoda's strong…I thought for the longest time nothing could stand in my way. Nothing…was beyond me. He was."

"He's worse than when I fought him on the spaceship." Mike said slowly, mentally wincing as he recalled Bana's words again. _You fought Zoda…but it was a shadow of the real one._

"This is a fine…time for you to be complaining about your weaknesses." Ezilian eked out, managing a glare. "I don't like you, Mike. I can still hate you…But…" The brief anger flickered away. "I'm begging you, Mike. Save Princess Mica. Stop Zoda."

Mike folded his arms. "Why?"

"You were going to anyway, weren't you?" Ezilian retorted, his breath hissing between his teeth. "You care about her…I've never seen…the look that was in your face when Zoda dragged her away. Not on anyone. Near as I can tell…you're the only person who can anyhow."

"Why?"

"…I'm not going to say it." Ezilian growled, blinking his eyes slowly.

Mike looked down to the floor. "Then don't. I have a hard time believing that myself."

"Even though _you're not…_" Ezilian said, being very clear to emphasize his words, "You…did it once. You took him down once. That's more than anyone else ever did."

A shaking hand came up and pointed to Mike. "I don't believe in prophecies. And I'm not a fan of miracles…but the betting odds are on you."

His hand slumped back down to the bed, his energy spent. "So don't fail me."

He breathed in and out a few more times, his eyes drifting shut.

After the silence, Mike looked to Amethyst with a worried look. Her hand on his wrist, she shook her head.

"He's asleep, Mike."

"Small miracles." The Earth boy exhaled. "Will he live?"

"I've got him confined to bed until he's recovered." Amethyst returned, a grim smile on her face. "He _will_ get better." She motioned to the door. "But you had better get going."

Mike nodded, remembering his role.

What had to be done.

Outside, Marlin and Hapo Omoy were standing next to each other, looking towards him. With his newly discovered left hand, Marlin slowly waved at him.

Mike nodded towards them, mouthing his simple thought.

Just like before…without any control whatsoever…his mind carried the thought on another wavelength.

_He won't take her. I promise you that._

Hapo blinked, rubbing at his ear. Marlin sunk into a gentle smile and nodded.

Coralcola Village grew quiet again as Mike ventured out through the north exit…towards the path that would take him back to his Uncle's laboratory.

It would still be a while before Sub-C returned to port, from what he recalled of the computer display before the small cave-in rained on his uncle's expensive hardware.

Time enough to pick up a few things…And one item he thought he would never have to use again.

* * *

_The Ruins at Howduyadocola (Rellini-Uros)_

_6:37 P.M._

Their chilling discovery had ended the need to further translate the mysteries of Rellini-Uros. They knew as much about this place as they needed to, for the moment at least. One mystery partway solved, Giskard Rorth and Dr. Steven Jones set their sights on continuing in the other; the cipher.

"This would be easier if it wasn't so damn confusing." Giskard mumbled, his fingertips gently stroking across the engraved surface. "You break King Hirocon's great code in moments, and then we bump into this."

"Writing in reverse is an old trick." Dr. Jones replied, looking back to his notes for a check on a word. "This is Hirocon's real puzzler."

"…Puzzler." His companion murmured. Frowning, he brought his hand up and tapped on another one of the symbols. "This…this means puzzle."

"Aah, you've found one of the three I was able to translate."

Giskard stared a little harder. "...I've been looking at this all wrong."

"Hmm?"

Giskard's hand ran across the surface again, left to right, and then right to left. "No, no…not like this."

His hand went back to the far left side of the cipher, tapping. "No wonder this didn't make sense to you. It's gibberish."

"We've established that." Dr. Jones murmured, frazzled. Giskard glanced up to him, a small glimmer of an idea flashing in his eyes.

"So try looking at it differently."

His hand, from the left edge of the scrambled Argonian script, didn't go right.

It went down.

_"My name is King Hirocon of the Planet Argonia."_ Giskard muttered slowly, translating as he went. _"I have done what I could for the others. They are on this ship…Soon to be sent off towards a new planet, and what I can only hope is a future better than the certain death they face here."_

"Giskard, you…" Dr. Jones exclaimed, his now open eyes following the words at a slower pace. Only half as far as Giskard was, his eyes came alight with new understanding. "Oh, Hirocon you GENIUS!" The archaeologist laughed aloud.

"Uh, doc?" Giskard asked, looking up to him. "This is hard enough. Think you might quiet down?"

"Right, right." The doctor corrected himself, shaking his head. "Keep going."

Giskard squinted a little harder. "He has this…going around in an inwards spiral. It's a strange way to scribble something. I don't think he did it just to be cute, either…No, Hirocon was too thoughtful. There's a hidden meaning to the pattern of his words."

_"I am alive, and so is Zoda. He must not be allowed…he cannot be allowed to obtain the power of the Starseer. Once the children are gone and safe, I am his next source, so I too must disappear. Death will not sway him from me. So instead…I will take my essence beyond his reach. I may never see my precious Seremichaela or the others again…But it must be done. If someone is reading this, then it means the children are free and, hopefully, safe. To you, I now ask another boon. I cannot return on my own…"_

Giskard shook his head. "Hirocon, you…What are you…" He coughed and continued. _"Only the one guided by my old friend's hand will be able to recover me…and bring me back to the living world through the puzzle."_

Dr. Jones shook his head, tapping the three symbols he'd successfully translated before Giskard stepped in. "Hirocon. Essence. Puzzle."

"You got the short version right." Giskard said, after a pause. "That was still tough going. You really have to know your ancient Argonian for any of that to make sense; Even then, without the spiral, it wouldn't make sense."

"Is that all it said?" Dr. Jones asked.

"…No." His apprentice replied slowly. He brought his hand up and stroked about halfway through the pattern, before descending again. "I ended the translation here. That was the most I could make out quickly. The rest of this…" He motioned to the smaller square of runic gibberish, "…Was written in a completely different way. And this isn't Argonian…or Ancient Argonian. It's something else." He looked back to Dr. Jones. "I can't make it out, but…I'd wager…"

"It's the puzzle?" Dr. Jones asked.

Giskard cracked another rare smile. "This really is Hirocon's handiwork. He wasn't the strongest king…but he was one of the smartest."

"And this puzzle…"

"I see you two wasted no time in getting down to business." A dark voice echoed loudly through the caverns. The two decryptors froze up for a moment, turning around to see their captor, the alien invader Zoda march back into their section of the caverns, followed closely behind by a shambling pack of his rotted underlings.

Zoda folded his arms, clawed fingers tapping against his elbow. "So tell me then, scholar. What have you and the mule discovered?"

Dr. Jones hesitated, not sure how much about their revelations of the cipher, however brief, he could get away with keeping secret. Giskard responded as only he could, biting his lip and swiftly moving to unsettle the calm and controlled poise of the monster.

"This place was called Rellini-Uros. Starseeker's End." Giskard said bravely, standing up and glaring at Zoda. "It was abandoned years ago…because somebody called 'the unlikely son' did something so horrible that all records of Rellini-Uros were erased from the Argonian archives."

"…You've done your homework." Zoda said appreciatively. He waved a hand about. "True enough…this was Rellini-Uros, a long long time ago." His red eyes narrowed, boring in on Giskard. "Though…If you were able to deduce that much, my young friend…Then you and this troublesome scholar you are working for must have felt you had enough progress on your _real_ project to survive the night." Zoda took a step towards Giskard. "Or perhaps you're just that much of a fool."

The boy tensed up, unsure of what to say.

"It's…It's about King Hirocon!" Dr. Jones finally spat out, fearing for Giskard's life. Zoda stopped walking towards them, aahing in appreciation.

"See, mule? Even the human can do it." Zoda turned and looked at Dr. Jones. "Very well then. What about him?"

"It talks about you, oddly enough." Dr. Jones answered. "About how he sent the children away from Argonia to escape you…"

"For all the good that did the sentimental fool…"

"And how he left."

"Left?" Zoda said, tilting his head to the side. It was obvious he wanted a clarification.

"…We…Read that he 'transferred' himself out of your reach." Dr. Jones finally said. "Because…you were after his strength. And he would not let you have it."

Zoda pondered that for a moment, then chuckled. "That's Hirocon for you."

"Is that why you don't care about me?" Giskard ventured bravely. "Because I don't have any power for you to take?"

"My, and here I thought you were just a pretty face." Zoda snarled briefly. "Astoundingly, yes. I seek the power of the Starseer's heritage. You truly are useless to me."

The alien pondered for a moment, then harrumphed. "However, others…are certainly not." He stepped to the side, and his shambling undead servants parted behind him. One at the rear of a pack pushed in a hunched over figure, a brilliant ceremonial cape around her shoulders.

As she landed on her knees next to the two men, Giskard could feel all of his glimmering hope snap in an instant.

Her eyes were red and tearstricken, her hair mussed, and her disposition one of lost hope. As if to try and hide, she pulled the out of place cape tighter around herself.

"I know, she does seem a little out of place…" Zoda rumbled, his claws rapping against his elbow. "I had to replicate a new cape for her…Maybe she thought a change of clothes would alter who she was. It didn't."

Giskard pulled the Princess closer to them, brushing her hair out of her eyes. "I'm sorry." He said, meaning it.

"The others put up a decent fight; some of the other noble children have learned a few tricks." Zoda continued, humoring them. "And there were a few others that made an attempt at being heroes. Pity. Heroes have no place here."

Biting his lip, Dr. Jones looked at him. "Who…Who fought you?!"

Zoda seemed to smirk. "Ohh. Afraid I killed anybody you cared about?"

"DAMN YOUR EYES, WHO?!"

"An old woman had a few…interesting revelations for me. And a young boy with the strange idea he was responsible for ending my life."

Dr. Jones' heart stopped cold.

_Mike…_

"I will return for the Princess in the morning." Zoda announced, looking to them coldly. "Then you will continue your examination of the cipher. Hirocon will not escape me."

"You're a monster…" Giskard choked out, fighting through the crushing sensations he felt thinking about who was still alive on Coralcola.

"Monster?" Zoda echoed, curious. Slowly, he shook his head. "For thirsting for power? That's not monstrous. That's a universal tradition."

"Your heart is as black as the wretched place that spawned you." Giskard spat back, unstopped.

Zoda laughed at that, cruelly. "Watch your tongue, boy. You're standing in my birthplace."

His rage dampened the disbelief, but Giskard was still taken aback enough to fall silent. Zoda looked around. "The unlikely son…I believe that's what they called me. The product of an Argonian mother and a male from this planet long ago. Both…but more appropriately, neither."

Zoda turned around, walking off. "Princess Mica, daughter of Sellarus…tomorrow, your strength finally becomes mine." He paused at the edge of the zombies, his helmeted head turning around just enough so they could see one red eye flicker. "Pleasant dreams."

His purple cape flowing behind him, the alien invader strolled through his servants and away from the cavern chamber.

Numbly, Giskard rubbed Mica's shoulder, trying to comfort her. "You…you were right." He said, glancing towards Dr. Jones. A moment later, he shook his head. "Damn it all…you were right all along."

"There are days I wish I wasn't." Dr. Jones reminded him. "Today is certainly one of those moments."

"So he's the unlikely son." Giskard continued. "The reason that this entire place, the exploits of the Starseekers sent here…were erased from record."

Princess Mica fell into a collapse of sobs, and Dr. Jones pulled her into a reassuring hug, shaking his head. "I think now's not the best time…to worry about that sort of thing, Giskard." He exhaled, only his concern for Giskard and Mica negating his desire to collapse into his own grief. "Mike…That monster killed Mike…"

Mica wiped a few tears from her eyes, looking at the archaeologist. "No…No, Mike's alive. That's the only reason I haven't died of a broken heart."

"…But, Zoda…" Dr. Jones continued, less grave yet confused.

"Zoda defeated him." Mica said, her face ashen. "Zoda…defeated everyone. And he killed Bana…maybe Ezilian too." The Princess shook her head. "Father…you should have just let us die."

Giskard blinked, stunned. "How can you say that? We narrowly escaped death…"

"And now we're all dead anyway!" Mica shrieked, nails digging into her palms. "Zoda…He wants my strength. Once he has it…it's over. And everything is in jeopardy. My mother was the keeper of Sellarus' legacy…and when she was killed during the invasion, I became the last link."

Dr. Jones gently rubbed her back, confused. "I don't understand. If he wanted your strength, why didn't he take it after he defeated all the others? Why go to the trouble of dragging you back here?"

Mica's head bowed. "The others…Zoda defeated them, but they wore him down. He muttered something about needing his full strength on the ride over. He needs tonight to rest…So I've a night to feel helpless before I die."

Dr. Jones clenched his teeth. "I've never allowed myself to fall into a hopeless situation, and I'm not about to start now. With you here, we can fight our way out, we can…"

"Do what??" Mica countered, her piercing eyes blurry. "I was with Mike, he told us about Sub-C. How would we escape? Your ship is gone, sailing back towards Coralcola. And besides…Zoda was right. Ezilian…he was right too."

"Wha?" Giskard muttered, blinking. "How so?"

Mica bit her lip, a weak and defeated smile. "I couldn't outrun…my destiny."

She sunk into Dr. Jones' hug, at the same time distancing herself from everything. "I tried to outrun it. I tried to fight it. I couldn't. I fell in love with Mike…and everything happened just as the Starseer said it would."

"…The Prophecy?" Giskard asked unsurely. "But the Prophecy only said that the Starseer would return to save his people in their greatest hour of need…"

Princess Mica Argos, caught between the old world of Argonia and her new life on Earth, once again motioned a disagreement. "Giskard…You never knew this. But there was more beyond that…A part of the prophecy that the Starseer told to Sellarus, and instructed her to only pass down through the daughters of her line. Sellarus told her daughter…and my mother, Queen Tanelia Argos, told me."

Dr. Jones readjusted his glasses. "…What? What was the rest of the prophecy?"

Mica let out a weak laugh, a hollow wreck of herself. _"Years will pass…My efforts and sacrifice will become legend, and the people will lose hope. You will not recognize me when I return, for I will not be born of your people. You will know me by the weapon I wield, and the courage in my heart. You, Sellarus…will be reborn as the daughter of your own line, and there, beyond what you know, we will find each other. We will find love. It will be a love adored by the stars…yet pitied. In the hour of darkness, at the hands of a new Devil from the stars, our love will bring death, and your candle will be extinguished once more…"_

Mica waited a few more seconds, finally biting her lip again. "Twenty years I thought about what that meant. Twenty years I wondered inside of my stasis cube if the prophecy was real…if I was the reincarnation of Sellarus, if the Starseer really would return. But if he did…if we were saved…"

Slowly, her head sunk onto Dr. Jones' shoulder. "And then we were set free, and standing in front of us was Michael…with his Super Nova hanging at his side. Ellini. The Starseer. The others…they wondered, they puzzled, but I…I desperately hoped it was not true. I thought I could change it. I thought…if I didn't fall in love with him, if I could be cold and distant, if I could stop those few words from coming true…then I wouldn't die. That's what the Prophecy said. The Starseer would return. I would fall in love with him. And…then…I would die."

She let out another barking sob, curling up tighter to the middle aged archaeologist. "I couldn't stop it. I love Mike. I love him more than anything now. But I'm going to die. Zoda's going to take the power of the line of Sellarus, and I will die. I couldn't change fate."

Next to Mica and Dr. Jones, Giskard slumped on himself a little deeper, his insightful mind at last seeing all the pieces of Mica's concern and worry slipping into place. "By the stars…Mica, I didn't know. I just didn't know."

_Back…Back at the library…I told you to act on your feelings. I didn't know…_

Mica shook her head. "At least…You're here with me tonight. At least I can confess to someone. We can't change anything now. Nobody can. Tomorrow, I'll die…and everything will fall apart."

Giskard stumbled over next to her, pulling his overshirt off and draping it over her. "You're never alone."

Princess Mica curled in closer to the old doctor, who gently stroked her back as she cried herself to sleep. "I've…always been alone." She rebuked, crying.

In just a few minutes, her own grief and exhaustion pushed her into an uneasy slumber. The girl resting in the crook of his arm, the archaeologist looked over to his companion.

"She's lucky, you know." Dr. Jones murmured, stroking her hair away from her face.

Giskard Rorth ran a hand through his own mussed mane, collapsing onto his side feeling hungry and defeated. "How so?"

Steve Jones looked to the girl in his lap. "She won't be alive to watch me betray her father to this bastard."

As sleep overtook the Argonian boy, he had to admit the Doctor was right.

Losing Hirocon to this monster, after everything else, would drive the rest to thoughts of suicide. At least Mica would join the stars in death…

Instead of the void.

* * *

_Coralcola Island_

_6:50 P.M._

Mike checked his watch again as he double checked the contents of his backpack.

A health potion that Bana had forgotten to give him at the outset of his last adventure.

Extra yo-yo string…provided Giskard, if he was still alive, still had the island yo-yo Mike had lent him. Preparing for that contingency lent some sense of optimism towards this mission.

Food and water rations. A few baseballs that didn't get thrown into the drink during his run-in with the second C-Serpent. A compass.

Beyond that, he had very little else for this journey. Save one last item, he reminded himself gently. Hefting the backpack over his arms, he walked out of his room, turning off the lights and giving it one last long glance. "Hope I see you again." He said quietly.

His Uncle's laboratory had what Mike considered to be a bigger than average amount of living space; but what space in the white futuristic building was taken up by bedrooms and the like paled to the demands of the structure's true purpose. An Electron Microscope was no small investment, and only the tremendous solar energy that was readily available in the islands of the Southern Cross kept it fed with power. It occupied a large chunk of the space in his uncle's laboratory, but that wasn't where Mike now wandered.

Slowly, he walked up to the large desk and workbench his uncle used. There was his Uncle's Apple II computer, the source for all his journal entries and records. It was currently shut down; his uncle was meticulous with that sort of thing. Next to it was what Mike was looking for.

The handle of the weapon lay across a plastic display rack, the gleaming silvery chain coiled up at one end in a pile. Atop the pile was the large, spiked mace head that hung on the end of the long whiplike flail.

There had always been a sort of power in it, Mike recalled. Gentle. Reassuring. It amplified his own courage, like a lucky charm would. At the time he had been running through the alien ship, he had thought it little more than his adrenaline gone wild; determination and steeled fury channeling his actions with the weapon. It hadn't always been like this, either. The Super Nova was born out of the strange energy that the red Argonian stasis cube had borne, and its original framework; the Shooting Star Morningstar mace given to him by the ruler of Shecola. Powerful, yes. But nothing more mystical to it than any other weapon he'd used in his travels.

Now, as he approached it again, he did so with a different perception. He had been awakened to the presence and nature of Shilivre…and though he could not use it effectively, could not control it as he had reminded Bana before she died, he could sense it.

The Super Nova glowed in a previously invisible light. As he stepped closer, it only glowed brighter, responding to his presence…to his touch. When he wrapped his hand around the grip, it seemed to burst with new life.

Gently, Mike lifted it up, staring at the powerful weapon in his hand. "I told myself…I'd never have to use you again." He began softly, listening to the metallic jingle of the links rubbing up against one another. "You were too dangerous. Too good at doing what you did."

The Super Nova hummed in his hand, sensing the call. "But I need you again. Princess Mica's been taken by Zoda…He's going to kill her, and then come for the others. I can't let that happen." He paused for a moment and nodded his head. "_We…_can't let that happen."

He walked into an open space in the middle of the laboratory, giving the powerful mace a test swing. As true as ever, it whistled eagerly in its course. Mike reined it back in, clucking his tongue. "Bana…She said I was the Starseer. I still have trouble believing that myself…I'm just Mike. I can't be anything else."

The Super Nova glowed back at him. "Besides…if I was the Starseer…then you would be Ellini, right? You vanished after the Starseer died, and now you return…An interesting bedtime story. But it's just that."

_I don't know how to be the Starseer. I don't know how to be a savior. All I know is being Mike Jones; baseball, fishing, and a mild interest in history. I didn't come to Coralcola to get involved in any of this, it…it just happened…_

But still, the Super Nova pulsed in his hand, and Mike remembered the vivid dreams he'd had in the last few days. He'd fought through his nightmares. After he and Mica had finally come clean, he'd stopped dreaming of that nightmarish trip through Zoda's spaceship. Correction…the shadow of Zoda. Nightmare Zoda.

This was the real deal. He had killed Bana. Broken the Argonian's strongest and proudest. Destroyed one planet, and probably countless more.

And he had Mica.

"I don't know if I am the Starseer." Mike mumbled to his weapon, his protest against the title weakening. "Right now, I don't really care. I need you…So fight with me. Help me beat Zoda one last time. Help me save her…And then you can finally sleep."

The Super Nova pulsed one final time, a wave of exuberant affirmation that echoed through Mike before the weapon went dim, keeping its silvery sheen, but no longer pulsing with energy that Mike knew had been Shilivre. The Shilivre imbibed by the Argonian boys from the red stasis cube weeks before…Or the Shilivre that was naturally attuned to Ellini…And to the Starseer.

"Starseer…Or Mike Jones."

_Ellini…or just the Super Nova._

Titles didn't matter. It was a weapon capable of smashing through anything Zoda could throw at him. Together with the unnatural stamina he held, his newly awakened senses, and the courage that had been there all along…

"We're going to save the world." Mike chuckled, feeling like he was losing his mind as he said it. "Look at me. I'm Link. I'm Superman. I'm the greatest hero ever."

He tucked the Super Nova through a belt loop of his blue jeans, looking at it one last time.

"No." He finished dully. "I'm Mike. Just…Mike." He took one last look around the laboratory, then headed to the stairs leading to Sub-C's cavern dock.

He wasn't at all surprised to see Baboo there, frantically checking and double checking the recently docked submarine, making sure all the systems still worked. The native paused with a screwdriver in his mouth, halfway up the sub's ladder. He nodded at Mike and emerged completely, taking the screwdriver out of his teeth. "I…I heard that you were going after them."

"I am." Mike nodded. "The sooner, the better."

"Well, that's why I've been running over Sub-C with a fine toothed comb." Baboo replied easily. He looked over Mike's shoulder forlornly to the ruined equipment sitting in the cavern. "Though…fixing this stuff up is going to take me a while longer. Having rocks smash on radio gear is never good."

"How long do you think it would take you to get it up and running?" Mike asked him.

"About half a day." Baboo answered. "And we're talking a very bare bones fixup. But I'll have to worry about that when we get back."

"We?" Mike queried, lifting an eyebrow.

Baboo harrumphed at him. "You're not going alone."

The boy gave Baboo a look. "I appreciate the thought, Baboo…but it's a bad idea."

"He killed Bana." Baboo countered, anger rising up in him despite his best efforts. "You'll need somebody to watch your back; you can't do this alone."

"You're angry. You want revenge." Mike consoled him. "I would too. But I need you here. I need you to fix that radio equipment, so we can still talk to each other. You're no match for Zoda, Baboo. I'm the only person who stands even a shred of a chance."

Baboo lowered his head, and Mike jumped up onto the sub, resting his hand on the older boy's shoulder. "Please, Baboo. Just trust me."

Baboo held back his tears. "But if something goes wrong…"

"Then nobody else has to die." Mike reassured him. "I'll save them. I'll stop Zoda. But I can only do that…if I don't have to worry about you, or anyone else on this island."

Something clicked in the back of Mike's mind. "Baboo…_They_ need you. The Argonians. If I fail…Zoda's going to come back for them. And they're all in bad shape. You know that. If that happens, you're going to have to protect them. You can't come with me. You're needed here."

Baboo mulled over it in his head, then slowly nodded in agreement. "You're right, Mike…You're always right." He stepped off of Sub-C, looking to his companion one last time. "I replaced the batteries before you came in. You should have a solid month's worth of sailing time, with proper recharges from the solar sail attachment…but for what you have planned, you'll have power to get you there and back. All the Sub's systems are in the green, and Nav-Com's as chipper as ever."

"In other words…"

"Hurry." Baboo echoed. "I might catch a nap on the way, if I were you…something tells me you'll need it."

"It's not that I don't trust Nav-Com's driving." Mike answered, slowly climbing down the hatch into his ride. "But I think…it would be best if I stayed awake."

Baboo waved at him. "I'll try and get the radio working in the meantime."

"Thank you."

"…And Mike?"

"Hmm?" The boy murmured, his head only inches above the hatch now.

Baboo nodded at him. "Be…be safe."

Mike pondered that for a moment, then smiled gently as the answer came to him.

_Aah, Bana…Maybe some of you did rub off._

"Only the stars know for sure, Baboo." Mike responded easily.

He dropped down the hatch and closed it behind him, double checking the seal. "Nav-Com!" He barked out, his voice clear in Sub-C's open space.

Up in the cockpit, a tiny robotic head whirred about, clicking into focus on Mike. _"User identified: Michael Jones. Welcome aboard. Please input request."_

"Engage the engines." Mike ordered, moving up to the front and dropping his backpack next to the driver's seat. "Set a course for Howduyadocola."

_"Course set." _Nav-Com chirruped after a few moments. _"Engaging dive mechanisms. Estimated time of arrival to Howduyadocola is…_"

"Nav-Com, shut up." Mike exhaled. "When we reach the open sea, surface for sailing. It'll speed us up."

Around him, Sub-C came to life, its bells and whistles clicking and beeping as water rushed into the ballast tanks that allowed it to float or sink. It was a strange sound, Mike thought. At least he'd gotten used to it.

Fully aware of the weapon hanging at his side, the teenager realized how strangely fortunate he was in this situation, as drastic as it was.

He still had the Super Nova. He had Sub-C to get him there.

And this Zoda…the _Real_ Zoda…Had no clue he was the one responsible for his counterpart's demise the last time.

He couldn't fall asleep. As many concussions and lapses into unconsciousness as he'd had, it was a more dangerous proposition to fall asleep than this quest to save Mica was.

Almost.

Mica.

He shut his eyes, clenching a fist as he held it against his chest.

_Mica…I'm coming for you. I'm coming._

_Just hold on. That's all I ask._

Again, he struggled for a moment with the concept of either being the Starseer, or just being himself. Again, he reminded himself that in the end, it didn't matter.

He loved Princess Mica. Through all the crazy things that had happened…he loved her.

And he couldn't lose her.

For love…he would fight again.

And that was the best reason of all to brave the storm.


	7. The Peace of Two Hearts

_**STARTROPICS: FOLLOW THE SOUTHERN CROSS**_

By Eric 'Erico' Lawson

**CHAPTER SIX: THE PEACE OF TWO HEARTS**

"_By natural order or by a continual quirk, every heir to the legacy of Sellarus was a daughter; a daughter of Sellarus, as the Princesses and Queens of Argonia have been called for generations. It is said that, beyond the incredible and unfathomable intuitive grasp of Shilivre that they carry, they are the inheritors, the keepers of wider truths that help them to rule as no other could. An old legend kept by the temples to the stars says that they are the light of Argonia…and that without that light…The light of Sellarus…_

_All of Argonia would forever fall into ruin. Even in modern times, we fear the consequences of this doomsaying prophecy. Queen Tanelia was threatened by a terrible act of treachery once; had she died, would the little Princess Seremichaela have been able to carry the burden of Argonia's light all by herself?"_

-Wellurn Teslin, Argonian Royal Historian

* * *

_June 30__th__, 1990 A.D._

_6:23 A.M._

_Outside Howduyadocola_

Any other day, Mike would have made his way through the confusing mess of small islands and reefs to stop at Howduyadocola for a glass of cold milk and some lighthearted conversation. He had on his first trip through this area.

Today was not such a day. Nav-Com sat diligently at the helm, leading Sub-C through the reefs with a precision that only the mechanical autopilot could master. And Mike, still very aware that he could not allow himself to fall asleep thanks to his countless prior injuries, sat up on top of Sub-C, his eyes burning a constant fire beyond Howduyadocola…and to the large land mass which contained everything that was most precious to him.

The Super Nova, still hanging at his side, had been quiet since they had passed Miracola late last night. Even as the chain links bounced off of his hip with the gentle sway of the ocean, Mike could sense it wanted to say something…but kept silent, out of respect or to save its energy.

Clenching a fist, he drew on the unstable, uncontrollable cord of energy that dwelled somewhere within him. It was resonating more strongly this morning than it had at any time the night before. It too, sensed something that the Super Nova did.

The time was fast approaching. The time for what, Mike didn't know exactly…but he had a fair inkling. Zoda would be in there. And whether or not he was waiting for Mike, he would find himself at odds with the boy.

It all ended here.

"Michael Jones?" Nav-Com called up from within Sub-C. The Earth native turned his head away from the rising sun, his thoughts breaking. "We will be approaching the dive point soon. Please return belowdecks and seal the boarding hatch."

Mike dropped his hand to his side, his fingers brushing by the coiled chain of his Super Nova. It pulsed against his fingertips for a moment, so brief that at any other time, Mike would have thought it nothing but errant static electricity. In his fire, he saw it as nothing less than the strange power the Argonians had left in it…or had been there all along.

"You want me to be afraid of you." Mike said quietly, looking out over the horizon. The blue was fading fast, and the sun looked ready to burst open at any moment. "Even after you should have died…you still haunted my dreams." Mike's eyes burned. "Maybe I was afraid of you once. But I found Mica. And I'm not afraid of you any longer."

The sun crested over the skyline at last, bringing the first rays of true morning light to bear. Mike turned away from the horizon and moved to the ladder, quickly stepping down and closing the hatch.

"The hatch is secure, Nav-Com." Mike said dully, tightening the seal until it would go no farther. "You can dive."

"Confirmed." Nav-Com chirped in his usual fashion. "Beginning diving sequence."

Slowly, Mike moved over to one of Sub-C's padded seats and sank into it, closing his eyes and letting his imagination play out. He shuddered when he did so, but he didn't turn from it. Fear would solve nothing, and it never did for him.

He couldn't be afraid of Zoda.

He couldn't be afraid of what he would do to Mica.

He had to focus. Prepare.

So when he stepped off of Sub-C…and into the ruins of Rellini-Uros…

Not a blessed thing would stand in his way from rescuing Princess Mica, and stopping Zoda. There was newfound courage that flowed through him. It had been a spark before. Absently rubbing at his weapon again, Mike realized that having the Super Nova was the cause of it.

"You're looking forward to this." Mike mused, chuckling as he realized he thought that the mace might talk back.

He said nothing as it pulsed against his leg again.

* * *

Giskard Rorth stirred for a moment, mumbling and frowning in his sleep as he rocked on the ground, trying to find a comfortable space to doze back off. A drip of water came down from the ceiling, crashing against his wrinkled nose. With a snort he bolted upright, jarred awake enough to realize the severity of his situation.

He looked a few feet away, to where he had left Dr. Jones leaning against the melted Argonian escape ship with Princess Mica. The archaeologist's eyes were open and quiet, and Mica still curled up against him, seeming all too fragile and pale in the dim light of their surroundings.

"Morning." Dr. Jones mouthed, barely speaking at all. No smile. No frown or moping stare. Just a quiet acceptance of the coming dawn…and Giskard remembered…their fate.

"Morning yourself." Giskard muttered back, running a hand through his unkempt hair. "How did she sleep?"

"Restlessly." Dr. Jones replied. "But she slept."

"And what about you?"

"My boy, a train accident couldn't wake me up when I bed down." Dr. Jones said, a small trace of humor in their otherwise humorless situation. "I woke up a little bit before you did." Dr. Jones looked at his watch. "It's almost 6:30. I suppose we have a little time before Zoda returns."

Giskard looked at Princess Mica, disheveled but still hauntingly beautiful, like a doe in a hunting field before the killing bullet. "Should we wake her?"

Dr. Jones ran a hand down her hair, soothing her back to slumber from her stirrings. "Let her sleep." He replied sadly. "So she can escape this as long as she can."

Giskard bowed his head. "Lucky her." His hand came up to tug a knee against his chest. "There's something about all this that I'm missing."

"What's that?" Dr. Jones asked in reply.

"It's Zoda." Giskard growled, looking back up. "There's something about him…something familiar. Like I've met him before, but I just can't place it."

"Well, he did destroy your planet." Dr. Jones commented. "Is that what you were thinking of?"

Giskard leveled a glower at him, and Dr. Jones offered an apologetic shrug. "I'm serious. I swear that…sometime before, I met him. I'm getting a strange uneasy feeling…and it's not because he's the genocidal maniac that destroyed my civilization. It's something else. Something…deeper." The boy struggled for the words, but he knew they sounded right. They felt right.

Dr. Jones thought about it for a moment, then exhaled in frustration. "I'd love to help you, but I don't have the mental strength right now."

"He's the unlikely son." Giskard continued, oblivious to the archaeologist's frazzled state. "He went to Argonia. Sometime. And he did something that was so horrible, that the records of Rellini-Uros were erased."

"And you think you know him?"

Giskard shook his head. "It's not in anything I've read; if it was, I'd have this. But…No. Like I met him sometime in the past." The boy rolled his eyes. "But that's impossible, right?"

Dr. Jones shrugged. "Four years ago, I would have thought that the presence of alien ruins on earth was a laughable concept of pseudoscience. That's changed."

A low trembling shook the ground, and the two explorers turned towards the source of the disturbance, a sense of dread running through them. Sure enough, it was Zoda, dressed in his full gear and as menacing as ever.

"You're awake." He said simply. "That is good." His red eyes flickered for a moment as he stared down at the Princess. "Wake her." Dr. Jones' eyes betrayed the first signs of rebellion, so Zoda raised an armored claw. "Wake her…_Or I will._" Steve Jones' resolve faded and he gently shook Princess Mica awake.

"Mica." He said softly. The girl groaned, but came to with the same despondent look on her face that she had had the night before.

"He's here for me." Mica whispered, looking up at the archaeologist with an empty gaze. "Isn't he?"

The archaeologist's eyes blurred in tears. "Yes…he is."

Mica pushed his shirt off of her and rose to her feet, smoothing out the deep purple and blue garments of her royal heritage; the clothes Zoda had forced her to wear again. She bent over and pulled Dr. Jones into a hug, kissing him on the cheek. "Thank you for trying to save us." She whispered, one last act of gratitude in her final moments among friends.

Dr. Jones shut his eyes against the blur and hugged her back. "I'm sorry I couldn't do more." He sniffed. Giskard looked at her for a moment, then dropped his head to the floor and said nothing. There was little else he could add.

Zoda folded his massive arms and glowered. "Come, Princess Seremichaela Argos, last daughter of Sellarus. Your time has come." The Princess pulled herself away from the Doctor and turned to face him, no fear left. The Alien Invader chuckled a bit at that. "Even in death…It must be a family trait." He pulled his cape over his arms and turned about. "Now come along."

Mica followed, her head bowed and all resistance sapped away. It all amounted to the same thing in her eyes. She had been destined to die. From the moment she had emerged from the stasis cube and seen Mike…the Prophecy had taken hold. And this was its final, gruesome chapter. They had tried to fight it. She had tried to fight it. But nothing could stop Zoda, or fate.

Zoda's voice echoed through the caverns as he led Princess Mica out of the escape pod's chamber. "Keep working on that cipher." He growled, his message meant for Dr. Jones and Giskard. The two men just sat there and watched the tyrant and the maiden disappear into the ruins.

Both had little doubt that it would be the last time they would see her.

* * *

_Coralcola Village_

_7:30 A.M._

Ezilian Ranuforte had roused early in the morning, groaning through his broken ribs with a fervor that had left Amethyst, loyally tending to him at his side stunned for words. Wheezing as he shook, his forehead laced with sweat from a latent fever, Ezilian struggled to hold onto consciousness.

Amethyst bit her lip and pressed a cold rag against his forehead, the second one so far today.

"He's killing her…" Ezilian rasped, his hands clenching and unclenching the sheets. "Mike…You have to stop him…"

"Be quiet already." Amethyst whispered, hoping that some part of his delusional mind could hear her. She hoped desperately that Ezilian wasn't losing his mind. The fever had only gone up since yesterday, and she had to do her best to keep the swelling down around his head.

If Mica were here…

Amethyst fought the urge to let out a choking sob.

If Mica were here, she could heal him in an instant, and Ezilian wouldn't have to suffer like this, struggle to hold on. He hadn't been this bad last night, either. The fever had come out of nowhere, perhaps not as linked to his injuries from Zoda as she had first thought. But he still groaned the same, trembled the same.

Little Rozlyn, who had said very little since Bana died, poked her head inside of the cabin and risked a glance at her sister. Her pleading eyes said everything that Amethyst needed to realize the question.

"He's fighting to hold on." Amethyst offered to her sister, wiping a tear out of her eye. "I can't do much more than keep him comfortable."

Rozlyn looked more downcast than before as she slowly nodded her head, then disappeared out of the reed covered doorway for somewhere else.

Ezilian's eyes, frantic, wild, and wide open, locked onto Amethyst. "He's there. He's fighting. It won't be enough. He won't be strong enough. She'll die. He'll die. They'll all die!!"

Amethyst held him down, shaking her head furiously. "Stop saying that!" She chastised him, whistling it through clenched teeth. "It's the fever talking, Ezilian, so be quiet and try to relax!"

They were empty words, and she knew it. Thankfully, his exhaustion did what a complete loss of rationality made impossible, and he slipped back into half whispered mumblings, fitfully wheezing as his hands trembled at his sides.

Amethyst dipped her cloth in the bucket of cold water beside the bed and placed it on his forehead. "Don't fail, Mike." She said, half wishing, half praying. "Please…bring her back alive."

_Come back alive._

_Come back._

* * *

Hapo Omoy, the Chieftain of Coralcola Island, stood at the edge of his domain's northern edge. The waves crashed up against the high cliff walls of his precipice, angry as red morning skies overtook everything. Nature added one last ill omen by sending a breeze out of the north, chill and biting.

Still, he stood. His sister was dead…if she were here, she could have interpreted the signs. As it was, Hapo now had to find a wife to bear him children. It was the only way her legacy…and the role of shaman, which belonged to the females of his line…could be carried on now.

Bana would have known what the omens meant. She would have turned to the stars, fading and faint, but still there in the slow morning light for guidance and received all the answers necessary to save them all.

Hapo's mustache bounced as his lip twitched…He was done crying, but the sudden loss still left a void in him. Bana would have known how to interpret it all.

As it was, maybe she had left him a little bit of her mystical strength in her last moments. Hapo couldn't understand the sensation that resonated from his heart, but he knew what it meant.

"He's there." Hapo whispered, nodding to the rising sun. "Mike's at the ruins."

Hapo blinked, amazed at his awareness. His mouth opened again, and what he said next came with no forethought, no mental speech. He just said it, as if something had forced him to. Like he was merely a vessel.

"_And the stars are with him_."

Hapo's hand clenched into a fist at his side, and he shook his head. "Bana…you're still with me, aren't you?"

The feeling lingered in his heart for a moment longer, then faded away.

Hapo looked to the surf, falling mute.

Maybe she had been, last night.

But she was gone now.

Hapo looked to the north, grimfaced and determined. "Do it, Mike." He said forcefully, hoping that the boy many nautical miles distant could hear him. "Avenge my sister."

* * *

_The Ruins of Rellini-Uros_

The reanimated corpses of Rellini-Uros' inhabitants shuffled about the ruins aimlessly, having no purpose assigned to them other than to patrol their home. Their master had given no other orders, outside of making sure that the two living beings in the chamber with the large misshapen lump were kept from escape. Only those closest to them worried about that; the others kept to themselves.

One zombie's shambling patrol was focused solely in the area of the ruins that led to the slightly fluorescent pool of water at the southern edge of Rellini-Uros' domain; the region where ruins met natural alcove, and nature took hold.

It had been quiet for some time, and that was good. But with what little sentience the zombie had left, it realized that the quiet sanctity of its patrol was being disturbed.

With water flowing off of its hard and gleaming scales, a bright fish of yellow hue rose up in the middle of the pool, letting out a low rumble of dissatisfaction as it pushed up against the shore of the alcove's bay. The zombie turned, its petrified bandages curling about its ankles, unsure of how to respond. The fish's growling went silent, and the creature watching it with a half rotted brain loosened its poise. Whatever it had been doing, it had gone quiet.

It noticed the sudden scuffling…almost clanking noise that came soon after. The top of the fish popped open…and out from it came a human figure, as if the fish had eaten it and now was regurgitating it back up again.

Then the corpse stopped thinking and moving altogether when a silvery mace with wicked points along its every axis whistled through the air and tore half of its head away, twisting the rest of it horribly out of alignment. The sentry fell into a seeping pile of its own decomposing juices, and the mace flew back, slicking the pus away as it returned.

Mike's eyes, hard and hot like the coals after a roaring fire stared at his first opponent as the Super Nova's deadly striking ball swung back and retracted, hanging innocently by its gleaming chain link neck. "If they were all that easy." He murmured, turning back down to look at Sub-C's interior. "Nav-Com!"

_"Present. What is your command?"_

"Lock down Sub-C in forty-five seconds. Do not open the hatch unless you receive voice confirmation of an authorized user."

_"Security protocols in effect…Sub-C will go into standby mode in forty-five seconds. Please clear the hatch to allow hydraulics to function."_

Mike hefted his traveling satchel of supplies over his shoulder and stepped completely out of Sub-C, jumping down easily to the cavern floor below. "What I wouldn't give for a few healing potions." He muttered to himself, remembering how ill prepared he was for this. He was pretty sure there would be no more 'hidden treasures' in these ruins, either. When he'd come through here a month and some odd days before, he had been in his prime for cavern diving in the islands. He'd likely found…and used…everything there was to be had in these caves.

But perhaps there were a few surprises left to Rellini-Uros. Perhaps.

He paused at the exit to the subterranean cavern and turned about, watching as Nav-Com ordered Sub-C's hatch closed. The hydraulic hinges pulled the metallic port closed with a hiss, then fell silent as the locking clamps set into place. "Good robot." Mike said, pleased that Nav-Com wasn't entirely useless.

He swiveled back about, chewing at his lower lip. He had gone through these ruins once, and while it was a little blurry now, he had a decent recall of how he'd gotten through the first time. That would do him little good if he didn't know where he had to go. Which meant finding Mica.

Which meant using Shilivre.

Which he was horrible at.

Mike tightened his grip around the Super Nova and closed his eyes. "Help me find her." He whispered, hoping that the pulsing resonance within his weapon would respond as it had in the past.

His mind reached out, and the walls and soil and rock of Rellini-Uros seemed to become transparent and vanish, his sight soaring through them, looking, searching for a certain glowing light…the light of the Starseer, carried through the line of Sellarus.

She was there. He drew in a breath with amazed vigor, reaching out and actually _sensing her._ A part of him didn't think he was capable of doing it…

But maybe, when it came to Mica…it was just easier to accomplish the impossible.

Mike opened his eyes. She had sensed him. He couldn't see her, but he could feel her…a gentle green glow, reassuring and clear just as the third stasis cube…Mica's cube…had been.

Mike blinked, his Shilivre aided vision revealing something else. Beside her glowing green aura, there was another force.

Dark. Black. Enveloping.

"Zoda." Mike said, his heart knowing the answer before his mind could process it. Both had sensed him.

Both turned. Both paused.

The black light flared up, and even though it wasn't at all possible, Mike could have sworn he heard a ferocious roar of surprise and dismay.

He stumbled backwards, one hand at his head as he was jarred by an invisible wave of energy that had come from Zoda's backlash. "Unghh…" Mike grunted, shaking his head as he tried to refocus. The Shilivre vanished, and his normal sight returned.

"So much for surprise." Mike said, knowing full well that both Mica and Zoda knew he was here now.

And if Zoda remembered nothing about Mike, it was unlikely he would stand long for an interloper with even a minimal understanding of Shilivre. Hefting his satchel a little tighter over his shoulder, Mike set off at a jog.

It was going to get interesting.

* * *

Zoda led her through the sprawling hallways of Rellini-Uros, arms folded behind his back and hidden from view by the thick purple cape he wore. There was little in his poise that suggested worry to Mica, and the reason was clear. He had won, after all.

"You don't know how long I've waited for this moment." Zoda commented, something in his voice gloating and mirthful.

"Twenty years." Mica responded tonelessly. "That's how long."

"Oh, no no." Zoda cackled, still humoring her. He stopped and turned about, facing her with his glowing red eyes and dark horned helmet. "Longer than that, my dear. You probably don't remember, but we knew each other long before I destroyed your planet."

Mica looked up at him, blinking and curious as her mind tried to grasp for the conclusions he was offering.

Zoda leaned in a little closer. "You really don't remember me, do you?"

"You're Zoda." Mica said, shaking her head and glaring defiantly at him. "That is all."

The Alien Invader laughed at that, his head swiveling left and right. "Oh, you wish it was that simple. No, my dear…I suppose I owe you a little enlightenment before we carry this ritual sacrifice to its end."

Mica took a few steps back, wary of the man. His hands pushed up and out of the billowing cape he wore, reaching up to grip at the sides of his thick helmet. A mechanism hidden from view clicked open, and he twisted the helmet to the side before lifting it off.

His face was pale but rugged; the marks and scars that adorned his stubbled visage spoke of a hard and haggard life, and countless surgeries. Maybe at one time he would have been considered attractive, but there was something barely beneath the surface of his visage that left her with a feeling of dread.

He seemed a mixture of Argonian and human, if such a thing was possible…his ears were more pointed than a human's, but did not have the elongated lobes that her people did. But she had heard the conversation the night before that Zoda had had with Giskard and Dr. Jones, so that wasn't surprising.

It was, at the end of her examination of his face that she found his most unusual characteristic. One piercing green eye, and one brown that glowered his spirit's inner darkness. Without his helmet, his eyes didn't glow red; didn't need to. Maybe it was an effect he was suppressing now.

Whatever it was, his eyes…one brown and one green…were enough to make her muddled memory kick in a sudden realization, and she stumbled backwards away from him.

Her eyes shone with the horror and fear that only the past could bring. "No…It…You can't be…"

"At last you remember me." The Alien Invader growled, pushing back his short and wiry black hair. His human hair. "As I've said…I've been waiting for this moment longer than you know. And at last you know who Zoda was. It was no coincidence that I destroyed your world."

Zoda leaned in closer. _**It was revenge.**_

Mica let out a choking sob, unable to stop it. "It's you." She whispered. "The one who nearly killed mother when I was just…"

"When you were just a little girl." The maniac finished for her, grinning in his own sick fashion. "So say my name. Say it, Princess Mica, and know your destroyer completely."

"Zodus." Mica hiccoughed, sinking to her knees.

Zoda…or rather, as he had been many years before, Zodus, smiled and put his helmet back on.

"And now she remembers."

* * *

_Ten Years before the Fall of Arruk-Sen (1960 A.C.E. Earth Relative Time)_

_Arruk-Sen_

_The Chamber of Atonement_

He knelt in chains, but even as a prisoner he exuded a newly discovered malevolent air and superior presence. It was a side of him that nobody in the room would have ever expected…and it was because of that surprise that made the charges all the more grievous.

He was dressed in his simplest clothing, all the markers of his former office and alliance torn away. His black hair was mussed and tousled from the near sleepless night he had been given, but his brown and green eyes blazed as fiercely as ever. He ventured a look around the dark room, the only main light coming in down from the ceiling's singular hole centered upon him. He could make out everyone clearly enough, though.

King Hirocon, younger but just as powerful as he would be ten years later, pounded the gavel from his throne high above the platform where the accused knelt in iron. At his side was Queen Tanelia Argos, heiress to the legacy of Sellarus. Despite her dull pallor and weak appearance, she had insisted on being at the proceedings. There were others there, of course. The usual hierarchy of Argonian nobility, a few emissaries from the headquarters of the Starseekers, the royal archivist and recorder, and a select group of the planetary magistrate. But the prisoner on trial found only one set of eyes worth looking at; The young girl with deep red hair and piercing eyes that stood up beside Queen Argos' lap, looking down at him in wonder and fright.

He grinned at her, knowing that if she would recall nothing else of this day, he would make sure she could never forget his malevolent gaze. It worked, of course. She recoiled from the sight and hid her face from his view. Princess Mica, he recalled. Only six years old, and a fetching child. She would be a real heartstopper when she grew up.

And she would also be heiress to Sellarus' line.

"Former Minister Zodus, stand." King Hirocon said, his voice echoing about the chambers with stern force. The man with the differently hued eyes seemed to consider it for a moment, then rose up and stood with the same defiant gaze in his eyes.

Hirocon shook his head at the sight. "Zodus, when I brought you from Earth, from the Starseeker's colony known as Rellini-Uros from the time it existed, I thought a foundation had been laid between our worlds. I brought you out of obscurity, granted you power and respect and status. I trusted you…made you my advisor. Knowing what I do now about the darkness in your heart, I have come to wish that I had never done so."

The black haired man sneered at that. "And yet you did all the same…"

Hirocon's face darkened, and a bolt of energy lashed out from his fingertips in the shape of a glistening star, crashing solidly into Zodus' chest and knocking the wind out of him. "_Silence._ You are charged with treason against the royal family, and against Argonia at large." Hirocon pounded his gavel again to quiet some of the murmurings in the room. "While it does not change anything, what is your plea?"

"Guilty, of course." Zodus said flatly. His eyes burned up to Hirocon for a moment, then glanced over to Tanelia Argos, who paled even more under his burning gaze. "I admit wholeheartedly that upon discovering the incredible mystical strength carried by the line of Sellarus, I plotted to claim it as my own."

The room fell into louder murmurs of disapproval, but Zodus continued on, unabashed and unafraid. "I did indeed try to claim Queen Argos' power for my own purposes…a process which, if I had succeeded, would have left her dead. I was regretfully stopped at the last moment by yourself, of course." He noted, looking back at Hirocon with some measure of disgust. "So instead of your dear wife being dead, she is merely weakened. But make no mistake…the power of the Starseer beats in my veins now."

The room fell into uproar at that, and King Hirocon pounded his gavel again, shouting for quiet. After a few moments, the room settled down, but the effect was done.

Fear and open rage towards Zodus now existed where hidden venom and quiet distaste had existed before.

"But you are right, of course." Zodus continued. "My plea doesn't change anything. You have brought a serpent into your garden, my dear friend Hirocon. So now I put it to you…just what exactly will the 'civilized' punishment of Argonia be?"

Hirocon bristled at that. "Were it up to me, and not the laws, I would destroy you here and now for your treachery." He snapped. His eyes glowed for a moment, then settled back down. "As it is, such barbaric acts are beyond us. Henceforth, Zodus, this is your punishment."

Hirocon stood up and set the gavel down, leveling a pointed hand at the man who he had once charged to be his most trusted advisor…a man he had once called friend.

"You are to be exiled from Argonia, never to return. Nor will you be allowed to return to your Rellini-Uros. All records of the Starseeker's exploits involving Earth will be stricken from public record. Your name, your family's heritage, will be dissolved and forgotten. In short, former Minister Zodus…your punishment is that you will have never existed. Ever."

The man who had been called Zodus since he was born took it in stride, not bowing or hunching at all as his life was shattered in a few sentences. Hirocon let his sentence ring through the room, and it brought a deadly silence that nobody was willing to break. At least, not until Zodus himself let out one singular burst of laughter that finished with a glare.

"Then I will finish what you have started." Zodus growled. Arms tied behind his back, he seemed as if he wanted to point straight back at his judge and jury. "I will no longer use the name you deem so abhorrent. Zodus is no more, indeed. So from now on, I will go by another name, and I hope it will haunt you to your grave." He looked around, the same sick and malevolent grin returning as his eyes danced across every face in the room. "Let my name haunt you all. One day, I will return and finish what I have started…I swear, I will cast you all into oblivion. And when you go, carry my name on your lips. _ZODA._"

Hirocon shook his head at that. "May the stars have mercy on your wretched soul, traitor."

A pair of guards came up beside the prisoner and clamped down on his arms, preparing to lead him away to the sole spaceship that would be set adrift into the sea of stars above with no way to return home.

Zoda, grinning as he was led about, reached out with his newfound strength and broadcast his thoughts.

_**The strength of Sellarus' line shall be mine. If not today…I know many things, and you will never be rid of me!!**_

Fighting against the pull of his captors, Zoda whirled about, his eyes flashing a flickering red as he laughed up to the balcony where Hirocon, Tanelia, and Mica now all stood.

"I'll come for you again, Tanelia!!" Zoda roared, insane and straining against the guards. The Queen whimpered, pulling behind her husband to try and shield herself from his maniacal presence. Zoda's gaze flickered down to the young and all too helpless girl who clung to her mother's leg. "_And if I can't have you, then I will take your precious daughter!!"_

Mica sunk to the floor, covering her ears and whimpering even louder than her mother had, closing her eyes tightly. She wished that the bad man would go away…

That everything would go away. That this was just some nightmare.

No, that man couldn't have hurt mommy. Mommy was strong. Mommy was very strong. Nobody could hurt mommy.

Years from then, her memories…and the records…of that day, of that man, of his past, would all be forgotten and suppressed.

But she could never forget the hideous laugh and grin of his…or the way his wild eyes of different colors sparkled with madness under his thick black hair.

* * *

Mica looked up at him, her fear returned. That had probably been his intent all along, to wipe the feeble resistance off of her face and leave her entirely helpless.

"If you wish to blame someone for this, then blame your father." Zoda said darkly. "He was always too trusting of non-Argonians. I was not his only contact beyond Argonia, I imagine…but I was the only one he brought to his world. Were it not for his influence, I would have been lost to obscurity in this place, and you and all your people might still live." The red eyes inside of his helmet flickered. "I find it quite amusing."

Mica trembled a bit. "If you're only half Argonian…how can you use Shilivre?"

"She asks the critical question." Zoda commented, motioning for her to follow. "Not like it will matter when you are dead. But I suppose we might as well solve all your questions before you enter the void."

He pulled his cape around himself a little tighter. "I did have Shilivre…but my version of it was far different. Useless. I could not use it to communicate with my thoughts, nor for combat or defense. I could not shape the world, enhance myself, or do any of the great acts that were so common to those of your blessed line. No, I found that my Shilivre was good for one thing only…" The alien paused and tilted his head about, catching Mica with an offhanded gaze. "To absorb the life energies of those around me."

Zoda shook his head and kept walking, Mica following as she had been for countless minutes. "Of course, that gift would have been disconcerting, shall we say, to the Starseekers that raised me. So I kept it hidden, thinking it a horrifying flaw. I pretended to be a mule, powerless in the ways of Shilivre. No one was the wiser. And then your father came, looking for someone to bring back to Argonia…a contact from the lost and distant band of Starseekers that had come here to Earth. He chose me. And once I was there…I learned of the truth behind the stories of the Starseer. I learned that Shilivre wasn't just something that all Argonians had…it was a rare and precious gift, and its most potent form was carried through the royal line. The daughters of Sellarus."

He seemed pleased with himself as he delved back into his past. "On the surface, I was everything that your father and mother could have hoped for. Loyal, bright, observant, resourceful. But beneath it was a thirst for power, for dominance that they could not see. Back then, I had no great hatred of Argonia and its people, dear Princess. I was simply driven to possess the power of the Starseer…and I learned through my research, and through a few late night outings, that on a world filled with far more Shilivre capable beings, my own 'useless' gift of leeching the life from those around me carried an added benefit. When I absorbed their essence…I absorbed their power as well."

Zoda chuckled lowly. "And if ultimate power was to be mine, it could only come from one person…your mother. When the time was right, I struck. I would have succeeded, save for the intercession of your bothersome father once more. He banished me from Argonia, cast me adrift in the stars." He paused, looking back at a still stunned Mica. "You're no doubt asking yourself…How did I survive to become the menace before you today? Well, my dear Princess, there are many worlds who were loyal to the Argonian people and their ideals…but there were others who despised them. All they lacked was a leader with suitable charisma and…coercive abilities. I united them. Thus was the birth of the Space Pirates…and their leader, Alien Invader Zoda. Stronger than I ever was, I returned to Argonia with two thoughts; the utter destruction and revenge upon the planet that had cast me out, and the final reclamation of the ultimate gift denied me. But we did not expect your mother to be on that space station…So she died, and I lost my link. I thought all was lost on my second goal until I remembered something."

Zoda turned and looked at Mica. "When I came to kill Hirocon, I found you. And I remembered that Tanelia had had a daughter…so even without her, the power of the Starseer could still be mine to wield."

Mica shook her head at him, numb with the revived horror he had given rise to. "How can you do this?" She mumbled, looking up at him. "You're Argonian…why would you do all this?"

"You could call it misplaced aggression, perhaps." Zoda shrugged. "Or maybe I truly am inhuman, and it is a sheer desire for power that has guided my life. Of course, you could always call the revenge card." His red eyes flickered again, all humor lost. "I could care less, myself. The line of Sellarus dies with you today…and this discussion is long since done."

Zoda motioned for her to follow him on farther, but Mica's feet seemed to freeze to the ground. Blinking in shock, she concentrated her thoughts on the sensation, which seemed as a gentle nudge against her. A familiar and comforting nudge.

In the cold of the ruins of Rellini-Uros, Mica's heart awoke with the stirrings of a sensation she hadn't felt in seemingly forever.

Hope.

_Mica…_

Stunned, the girl turned in the direction of the voice, thinking it a hallucination. No, he couldn't be here. There was no way…

_**…Mike?!**_

_MICA!! _

_**MICHAEL!**_

He was here. He had come. He had come for HER. Zoda turned about, grim and annoyed at her disobedience. "Blast it, wench, stop dawdling and come along!"

"I'm here!" Mica screamed, reaching out to him with everything she had. His watchful and worried presence, carried on the breeze of Shilivre expanded…and danced across Zoda's form as well. Mica could sense his gaze turning.

Zoda felt him stare as well, but his response was nowhere close to hers. Hissing in surprise and dismay, his clawed hands clenched into fists. "What…?! Who is that?!"

Mica whirled on him, hope singing in her heart one more desperate time. "It's Michael Jones, the boy who rescued us from your clutches weeks before!"

Zoda growled. "But he uses Shilivre…how??"

Mica's grin answered nothing for him, but Zoda's flashing eyes revealed that he already knew the solution.

"You think…you really think he is the Starseer reborn?" Mica's grin grew wider still.

"He has come to destroy you, Zoda…And to rescue us in our darkest hour!"

The Alien Invader seemed to think on that for a moment, but relaxed with another dark chuckle. "Oh, but if the Prophecy really is true…then you fell in love with him, didn't you?"

Mica's grin vanished in an instant, and disbelief took its place. "How can you…"

"Oh, I know of the Prophecy, Princess Seremichaela Argos. The _FULL _prophecy, not just the story told over evening fires." Zoda growled lowly. He tapped the side of his helmet, red eyes burning low. "That was something else I learned…when I attacked your mother. I got more than a portion of her strength…I received her knowledge as well. Including the hidden details of that ancient legend. So before you go off and celebrate my demise…remember that it is your destiny to die." He pointed a clawed finger at her. "And so help me, you will die today."

A rolling black locus of energy erupted around him, then slammed hard against the tentative psychic reach of Mike far distant in the ruins. "I will not tolerate interruptions." Zoda waved his hand, concentrating thickly for a long moment.

Around them, the ruins seemed to come alive, humming and glowing with lights and noises not heard for thousands of years.

"This place was a stronghold of the Starseekers, long ago." Zoda commented, glancing over to his captive princess. "I've reactivated the dormant defenses…They should be more than enough to deal with this upstart."

Mica bit her lip. "It will only slow him down."

"You have incredible faith in this boy…" Zoda commented softly. "But you will be dead before he ever reaches us." His hand extended out at her and he fired off a blast of tremendous force, stunning her cold.

He lifted her unconscious form over his shoulder and took off walking through the awakened corridors of his long forgotten home. "It wouldn't do for you to be doing anything stupid, like trying to resist me." Zoda commented to her prone frame. "I'd prefer not killing you until I can do it right."

Despite his bravado, Zoda did feel shaken at that moment. He had remembered the Prophecy, an errant memory that he had inherited from Tanelia as he had drained her life force and powers away. Mica's sudden resurgence of spirit in her hopeless situation seemed to mark how clearly she thought it was coming true.

But surely she was mistaken…that old woman had used Shilivre as well, and she was not the Starseer. That was likely the case with this 'Mike' as well.

And heaven help him if it wasn't. Because nothing was going to stand in Zoda's way.

* * *

The caverns of Rellini-Uros had long been quiet. Even when he had come through the first time and fought against the few undead and rockformed sentries that wandered the ruins, it had maintained its eerie quality of silence. The only time that the ruins had seemed to come really alive was when he had fought the inner guardians; the strange Turboss, the statue guardians, 'Broken Joe', the floating Easter Island head, and of course, the twin statues that shot fire. Mike had anticipated much the same on this trip.

He was met with a rude awakening when a faint and glowing luminescence, the byproduct of an age lost long ago, came to shimmering existence and the low hum of rusted, hidden machinery.

He stopped his jog, tensing up and reaching for his Super Nova reflexively. "This didn't happen last time…" He growled, looking for any immediate signs of danger. But aside from the flooded state of the ruins' opening section, which was more blended in with the rock and underground grass than later portions of Rellini-Uros would be, little seemed changed. At least when it came to the terrain. He knew he wasn't far from another room of tiny platforms over open water, and there would likely be some resistance to be found there. He would run into some dangerous vermin along the way; variants of typical shellfish and squid that were dangerous, but weak. And he had the Super Nova as well…something he hadn't had on his last trip through. If things had stayed the same, he'd also have to tangle with a few mutated bipedal monstrosities and some rotting mummies to boot.

If he was lucky, the strange humming that was being produced didn't mean that any larger creatures had reawakened. But this hadn't been a particularly lucky day.

As if to confirm his suspicions, the bend of the corridor not far off echoed a slow shuffling and groaning. Mike drew his Super Nova and exhaled. "More walking dead. Perfect."

A horde of five shuffled into view, moving with a sluggish but determined pace towards him. Wasting no time to ponder his circumstances, Mike swung the deadly ball above his head and let it fly. His first shot slammed hard into the lead corpse, knocking him back against the one following him and stopping the march cold.

"Dang, this thing's radical!" Mike whooped, exhilarated by the raw and unstoppable power that the Super Nova offered. The bandaged foes tried to recover from the first blow, but Mike pulled his arm back and swung the chain back again for a more powerful attack. This time, the spiked mace blasted through the first corpse and obliterated it before crushing the second bandaged zombie into a useless heap of barely preserved flesh and bones.

The others were undaunted and came after him with their unceasing gait…but they didn't stand a chance either, and fell like their two comrades.

Mike listened a little harder, then exhaled when he heard no more coming. At least for now.

"This place is waking up." He said softly. Moving up ahead and out of the corridor, he found himself in the room that served as the junction between the flooded hall ahead of him and the way to the exit behind. Two pools at opposite ends of the chamber exploded with movement as deadly flying squids hurled themselves from one puddle to the other. Mike bared his teeth.

_That's new._

He tightened his grip around the Super Nova's base, readying himself for another attack. "Bana told me when I stopped Zoda last time, that the monsters were disappearing. Now that the real Zoda's here…This place is more heinous than before."

_Like he was controlling it all._

A few squid collapsed into stunned piles on the floor from a series of quick strikes from the few baseballs he had on him. Retrieving his projectiles from their twitching and dying bodies, Mike dodged the rest and pressed on. The next room was the one that worried him.

It seemed much the same as it had been on his first trip; a great hollowed out hall in the rocks with no floor to speak of. Completely opened to the floodwaters of the cavern access, there were only a few sparsely placed pedestals that jutted out from the water to jump across. Another person might simply have swam across; the water was calm enough to allow for such a thing easily.

But the dread that rose up in Mike unconsciously reminded him of one very important fact that made his own journey through this mess all the more difficult. He couldn't swim. He'd made that fact abundantly clear to Marlin, a long time ago. Had it not been for Ezilian's efforts after the fight with the C-Serpent's mate two days ago, he would have drowned then as well. And now he faced the same problem.

He swallowed down a bit more of his fear. "Here goes nothing…" Tying the Super Nova tightly to his jeans, he made cautious hops from platform to platform, careful of the timing for the ones that rose and fell from the water. The arrangement seemed much the same; Drawing back on what he remembered from his last trip through, Mike avoided the obvious path and forged on through a more obscure pathway through the maze of stepping stones. Even though it would have seemed impossible from a distance, his route allowed him to jump the shorter distances between havens. What made him worry, though, was that there were none of the aggravating shellfish vermin jumping around from block to block. They had been through on his last trip through these ruins, and he doubted very much that they would simply be dead. No, there was a reason they weren't here.

"There were monkeys in Coralcola." Mike growled, clearing another two pedestal wide jump. "So what's here?"

Worried as he was about what might be running beneath the waves, Mike failed to notice how something _had_ changed in the room's configuration. He landed solidly on one block, stumbling for a moment and cursing himself as he regained his balance. What he failed to notice was that he had triggered a hidden switch…and activated a red pressure sensor on the block ahead of him. His head was turned sideways as he made the next jump, but when he landed, he finally realized something had gone wrong.

The sound of depressing a red switch was all too noticeable to ears that had never forgotten the sound of them.

Mike glanced down to his feet, caught off guard. "That wasn't there before." He commented, tensing up and looking around.

The wall to the north of him opened up, revealing a hidden doorway he'd never before found. "That wasn't either."

His blood ran cold when he heard the sound of rushing water…coming from the hidden doorway that had just opened.

_And that SURE AS HELL WASN'T THERE BEFORE!!_

Mike's eyes jerked towards the exit; it wasn't far, but it wasn't anywhere close. The rushing water poured into the room, and the water level raised at an incredible rate, soon rising up and lapping at his sneakers.

"Ohh, CRAP!" Mike screamed, tearing towards the exit. Already he could make out a hidden doorway beginning to slide down, seeking to seal off the room's exit. That wasn't exactly moving at an accommodating speed either. It seemed like Mike had two options, as much as he hoped. He'd either fall in the water and drown…or he would be trapped in this room, and he'd still drown.

Drowning wasn't exactly something he was looking forward to doing. He jumped another platform, cringing as he splashed through three inches of water before hitting the platform. Only two more jumps, and he'd be clear…

_Two more jumps…_

The water came in faster, up to his knees.

_Oh, please give me the strength…_

Slogging through the water, Mike made another defiant jump. But unlike before, he was treading enough of the seawater that his jump was hindered. Screaming in dismay, Mike could do little but fall short of his goal, sinking and thrashing into the water that continued to rise.

Drowning was more than a reality for the Seattle native; sure, he sank like a stone, and he couldn't do a stroke for his life. Those were things any person could have overcome. But for Mike, it was just as much an irrational fear…the water, the fear of drowning was a phobia.

He doomed himself, in other words, more because he was so afraid of drowning that it really did happen. And unlike the last time he'd fallen into the drink, there was no Ezilian to save him.

Numbly, he was aware of his fingers scrambling and reaching for the pedestal a foot away from his outstretched arms, and of his legs frantically thrashing about. For the most part, he was lost in his own thoughts. Remembering the last time he'd been in this situation. Remembering everything that he was fighting for.

_I can't swim…but then…how did I get out of the escape capsule from Zoda's ship…_

_Mica…No, I can't die yet…I have to save Mica._

_I have to stop Zoda. I can't die._

Truth be told, Mike would never be an expert swimmer. He'd never become even a novice swimmer. But at that moment, none of those things mattered. All he needed to do was stop worrying about drowning long enough to do something about it.

Worrying about Mica was enough of a distraction to accomplish just that. His thrashing legs developed enough of a forward momentum that he was able to crane his arms out and grab the sides of the platform he had tried to jump to. Holding his breath tightly, Mike pulled with everything he had and shot himself through the water, kicking off of the platform with his legs as they passed by for one last boost.

Even as the room finished flooding, Mike's desperate blast through the liquid propelled him far enough towards the door that the current of water flooding out of the rapidly closing exit picked him up and shot him through the narrowing crack. As if to add one last reminder of how grave his predicament had been, a bit of his shoelace that had come untied was caught between the shutting door and the ground, dangling him for a moment before it snapped free.

Mike coughed up what felt like a few lungfuls of water, soaking wet from the immersion and slowly coming back to his senses. Monsters, he could fight. But overcoming something that had been an obstacle all his life…was something else entirely.

Behind him, the room he'd barely escaped from began to drain the floodwaters, the trap sprung and calmly undoing itself. Mike ran a hand through his hair, checking all his gear. Strangely enough, he'd survived the deluge without losing anything.

"Sorry Zoda…but if you're trying to get rid of me, you'll have to try harder than dirty tricks." Mike wheezed, standing back up. He winced for a moment, then pulled a fish that had somehow wriggled into his jeans' back pocket out and tossed it aside.

_I don't have time to worry about drowning or dying anymore._

_He's going to kill Mica if I don't hurry!!_

* * *

When Mica came to, her body was still sore from the impact of the shot that had been thrown at her. She tried to reach for her stomach to feel if there was any permanent damage from the starbolt Zodus…no, Zoda…had thrown.

He had been Zodus. But that had been a long time ago.

She couldn't feel herself, though. Shaking her head to clear the last vestiges of confusion, she realized that she had been tied down on an altar. Zoda's back was turned to her, busy looking at a flashing display panel that had kept its sheen after thousands of years of disuse.

Of course, Zoda was observant, even with his attention divided. "Awake at last. That's good."

"Just what are you doing?" Mica asked, straining against the tarnished metal chains that kept her from escaping the room's altar. She lay in the center, a ray of sunlight coming down upon her and providing the bulk of the room's illumination. "Making some last minute preparations for your sick ritual?"

"No, there's little more I need to do for that." Zoda responded, his voice subdued. "I'm actually watching the progress of your friend…Mike, was it?"

Mica's blood ran cold. Zoda, perhaps because he was just attuned to darkness, and its role in emotions, sensed it and chuckled. "Oh, that's sweet. You fear for him?"

Zoda turned about, his red eyes glowing from inside the depths of his helmet. "Well, he's not dead yet. For a time, I thought he might…he triggered one of the old ruin's traps I reactivated. It seemed as though he might drown…But he managed to somehow pull himself together long enough to escape it." Zoda folded his arms, watching Mica carefully. "Tell me, has he always had such a problem with water?"

Mica glared at him. "I'm not telling you anything, you monster."

Zoda let out one of his low chuckles at that, shaking his head. "Why, my dear…you already have." He shrugged his shoulders. "Sadly, water traps aren't one of the things I remember having a lot of in Rellini-Uros. Still, if he thinks he can rescue you, he'll have a few other…surprises."

"He will rescue me." Mica stated defiantly, shaking her head.

Zoda cocked his helmet to the side, red eyes narrowing at her. "You cling to these dreams, even though they will never come true. He will not survive the ruins. There are too many defenses…too many of my servants, and the old protectors of this place for him to overcome."

"He will overcome them." Mica said shakily. "He is the Starseer."

Zoda's hand clenched into a fist. "He is most assuredly _not._"

"Of course he is." Mica whispered, a tear rolling from the corner of her eye. "I love him." The look she sent him carried a mental message. _And if you know the Prophecy…the full Prophecy…then you know that it was destiny for me to fall in love with the Starseer reborn. Not just any boy._

Zoda held his tongue for a moment, even though his breathing indicated a great deal of barely controlled anger. _**Even if he is the Starseer…Which I will never believe, my dear Princess…You will not live. Even if he makes it through Rellini-Uros alive, you will die. And there is nothing that he can do about it. **_The alien smirked at that. _**If the Prophecy is as right as you say it is…if you believe in it that much…then you know that that is the truth.**_

Mica closed her eyes. Zoda's words, fueled by knowledge stolen from her mother many years ago, struck her worse than any starbolt ever could. For she knew he was right.

_**And when you lie dead at my feet, and your strength is mine…Then he will die as well.**_

Zoda stepped away from the monitoring console and stepped up beside Mica's defeated form. His arms extended out and hung above her, hovering in the air as he collected himself.

"And now it begins…" Zoda murmured, closing his eyes.

Mica didn't have the heart to open hers.

* * *

The natural part of the tunnels was starting to disappear; Mike climbed out of the the first section of Rellini-Uros and into a grandiose chamber with abandoned humanlike statues, more akin to something from the Olmecs, jutting up everywhere. There was a faint echo from slow droplets of water that came down from the ceiling, and the gigantic structure glowed as it always had with phosphorescent lichens along the walls. Beyond this point, Mike knew, there was no turning back. Beyond this point began the true ruins of Rellini-Uros…And the bulk of Zoda's surprises in these awakened tunnels.

He had to shake his head as he jogged on, moving at a brisk pace that wouldn't overexert his stamina. His Uncle couldn't have had any idea a year ago that it would turn out like this. He couldn't have known when he invited Mike to come help him explore the ruins…that it would lead to an adventure that still wasn't over.

He kept moving, but his thoughts stopped suddenly. _Uncle Steve…_

Was he still alive? Was Giskard alive?? They had been on their way to the ruins…they had arrived and been here. Something had caused them to send Sub-C back. They had sacrificed escape to give him the chance to save Princess Mica and stop Zoda.

Refusing to fall into panic, Mike desperately hoped that they hadn't sacrificed more than that as well.

"Because if you've hurt them, Zoda, I swear…" Mike growled. "You're just going to hurt everyone I know. And you will pay."

This portion of the caverns was sheer maze. Mike recalled how on his last trip, he had wandered about for nearly an hour, hitting dead end after dead end trying to find the path that would weave through the water surrounded walkways and take him to the far shore of the cavern's seawater lake. Of course, that stumbling had resulted in him finding one of the powerful relics left in these islands; a small fruit shaped like a heart that didn't spoil, and when eaten, restored one's vitality and added to it.

Somehow, Mike imagined that he would have no such luck or findings on this trip. But he would kill for another set of those spiked cleats…and barring those, he'd take a pack of those double shurikens that he'd been forced to use to take out the giant fire-breathing statues.

At least, he consoled himself, he hadn't met Turboss or that "Broken Joe" on his way here.

"Kind of makes you wonder just exactly what else Zoda has planned." He muttered, darting through the wider tunnels with a speed only his experience could grant him.

Take the leftmost route. Hang a right. Follow the trail. And there you reached the opposing shore to the cavern's lake…and the wall of gigantic statues that signified how deep inside Rellini-Uros you truly were. If he followed the trail, he would reach the center of the ruins…

The gigantic melted mass of metal that he now knew as the Argonian escape pod. A craft which had carried the three stasis cubes over hundreds of thousands of light years, to the other side of the galaxy…From Argonia to Earth.

"Where it all began." Mike said quietly, offering up another prayer to the welfare of his Uncle Steve and Giskard Rorth. The statues, a near bronze brown in their polished and unmarred stonework, stood silently watching and guarding the tunnel leading farther in. They had stood there for ages, speechless observers as time had passed and left Rellini-Uros to fade out of existence.

And yet today…they moved. Inexplicable as it was, the two statues closest to the doorway began to shudder and rumble, shifting on previously hidden rails to block the passage leading to the ruined escape pod and the next chamber. Mike drew himself up short, hand reaching to his waist and pulling the Super Nova up at the ready.

"Oh, I really don't like the sound of this…" He hissed, eyes darting around for any sign of trouble.

And trouble came. Echoing a strange noise, a pile of rocks danced along the ground towards him. Mike jumped up into the air and let it pass harmlessly overhead, his instincts reminding him of what the beast was.

A sentinel of rock, who excelled in hit and run attacks. Still, if you knew how to dance around them, they were weak and useless. Sure enough, it reached the end of its run and exploded into being out of the ground, the dancing rocks scattering in all directions like shrapnel.

"Game over!" Mike yelled, hurling his Super Nova with deadly accuracy as he jumped over the wave of its attack. The rock monster, built for surprise and speed, collapsed quickly under the weight of Mike's strongest weapon.

Mike looked about. "Where there's one, there's more." He said softly, gripping tighter on the Super Nova's grip. Sure enough, more explosions of rocks began to dance along the ground…but unlike the last time, they didn't streak towards him. Instead they swirled about him, as if the sentries were observing him. Mike tensed up; a wrong move on his part could buy him a great deal of pain if they all decided to emerge at once and fire together.

That wasn't what they did, though. Instead the dancing pebbles and rocks swirled away from him, meeting in one spot. The ground shook, more than it had when the statues themselves moved to block his exit. And more shocking to Mike was how the small dancing piles of rubble combined…

The rocks grew larger, into boulders…

And when Mike thought they could grow no larger, they exploded outwards in all directions, flying missiles the size of clothes dressers. One headed straight for him, and he knew he couldn't jump it.

He fell flat on his face, squeezing his body tight against the hard and rocky soil and suffering bruises in the process. But it worked, as the projectile soared bare inches above his head and missed him cleanly. Mike scrambled back up to his feet, his hand tightening around his Super Nova even more as he saw what had come from that explosion of rock.

It was another one of the rock skirmishers, sure. Only this one was four times as big, looking nearly twelve feet tall…and as bulked up as it was, its lumbering arms lurching back and forth, it was clear that speed had been sacrificed for something far more dangerous to him.

"This isn't good." Mike muttered to himself, knowing full well it was the greatest understatement said yet today. The Super Nova in his hand hummed in agreement, reassuring him that he didn't stand alone.

The beast let out a roar, even though with no vocal cords, that should have been an impossibility. It stepped forward with a lumbering, crushing step, and Mike barely threw himself clear of the foot before it came down. As it did, the smaller rocks about the Golem's foot exploded outwards, much like the rock skirmishers fired off their outer shell when they emerged from the ground. Mike winced as the sharp edged rocks gashed across his back and shoulder, a grim thought reaching his mind. This thing could do that every time it stepped…and that was none too good.

Mike ran between its legs and swung the Super Nova up between them. Even though it made little logistical sense, he hoped that a hit to the rock beast's metaphorical 'babymakers' might wind it a bit. Slow it down enough so that he could muster a more formidable attack.

It took the blow and certainly felt it; bits of rock flew in all directions from the impact, and the hole Mike had smashed into the creature refilled with a shuffling mixture from the rest of its body. It lumbered about on Mike and brought its foot down, trying to flatten him. Mike jumped aside like he had before, but this time allowed himself enough space to jump the explosive shower of rocks that came from his descending foot. "You missed!" Mike shouted at the beast, hurling his weapon again. The spiked ball slammed through the side of its thigh and took another chunk of the monster with it, but just like before, it simply readjusted the rest of its mass to accommodate for the wound and repaired itself.

It was obviously growing annoyed. Its previous lumbering gait sped up with a faster step, and like before, Mike dodged the stomp and the spray.

He didn't anticipate the beast's fist swinging down to crash into his chest and hurl him backwards along the underground path. And it _hurt._ Of course, getting hit anywhere by a giant animated rock monster was going to hurt, but he hadn't been expecting the thing to come out swinging.

Mike skidded along the floor for a moment, his free arm coming dangerously close to the water's edge. Despite the pain and the scraped skin that would soon bring forth a rush of blood along his chin, Mike forced himself back up to his feet and shook his head.

"All right, you can hit." Mike slurred, focusing on the monster as it lumbered towards him at his slow gait. The Super Nova hummed in his hand again, eager for battle. And Mike knew all too well that range was one advantage he had over the thing…

"No pile of _rocks_ is going to stand in my way!" Mike cried out, whirling his mace about his head before hurling it out. Unlike before, he tapped into the Super Nova's hidden skill. At the apex of his swing, the ball disconnected from the chain and slammed like a cannonball into the Golem slowly moving towards him. Just as soon as it had hit, it reappeared on the rest of the Super Nova as if it had never gone missing.

Mike grinned and hurled it again. And again. It was the Super Nova's greatest asset, the range and the speed of blows that it could create, as long as he had the strength to perform the motion. And while he was injured, he was certainly fully capable.

The Golem roared under the powerful series of blows, pieces of itself blasting out in all directions. Struggling to its feet, it pulled itself together, but thanks to the number of pieces Mike had destroyed, it shrank in size, standing now only half as large as it had been at the beginning.

"So, you're not invincible." Mike grunted at the thing, waiting to see what it would do. "There's just a lot of you to destroy." The Golem roared in response and lumbered towards Mike, moving faster now after having fifty percent of its body shredded away. Mike rolled to the side and threw the Super Nova again, but the rock monster slammed itself into the ground, and the shot flew harmlessly overhead.

The Golem had disappeared as if by magic, but there was a shaking in the ground underneath his feet. Before Mike could even begin to realize what had taken place, it burst out of the ground underneath him and swept him up into the air, its thick hands threatening to pull him apart.

Mike let out a scream as the Golem tried to stretch his body out, one hand on his arms and the other on his legs. The Super Nova fell to the ground at the rock monster's feet, loosed from Mike's grasp and no longer a threat.

The beast roared triumphantly, loosening its grip just enough to prepare itself to end Mike's life and quell the threat to Rellini-Uros. Borne of the latent mystical and technological strength in the ruins, summoned by a long forgotten master, it knew only that the trespasser in his grasp was the one that he had been created to destroy. Now his purpose would be fulfilled.

Bleeding from his lip, bruised and somehow feeling that one of his arms was already dislocated, Mike brushed through the pain-induced haze of his endorphins and wheezed out a stale breath of air. "Not like this." He rasped.

_No…It's not time yet…_

Fully aware of himself, Mike would have struggled and fought the only ways he knew how; brute strength, his short bursts of speed, and his unreliable jumping and weaving. That and hurling whatever weapon he had at his side, which in this case, was the Super Nova.

But the Super Nova lay at the creature's feet, and Mike was clutched between its hands, only seconds from being torn apart. All his usual avenues were gone.

It was there, in his hazy perception, that something else took over. Something deeper and older than even his most basic tricks.

Something he still hadn't been able to reconcile.

The Super Nova on the ground hummed angrily, sensing something beginning to stir in its master. The Golem paused for a moment, confused as a locus of white light briefly flared around Mike's weary body.

Mike's lips parted, and a single word escaped them.

"…_Fly."_

The Super Nova jumped up into the air, moving under its own power, but compelled and driven by something else entirely. Whistling faster than it had ever before, the spiked mace that the Argonians had thought to be _Ellini_ reborn slammed up through one of the Golem's legs, sending it toppling to the ground. The beast roared in pain, but the Super Nova did not stop. Still faintly glowing in the same white light, it turned about and exploded through one of the rock monster's arms, turning about and burying itself deep into the beast's reassembling torso. Fragments of rock and tiny boulders rumbled through its mass, trying to heal the damage it had sustained. Mike was released and rolled to the floor, his dull eyes looking almost lazily at the section of the Golem where his Super Nova was hidden.

The rock monster paused its movements, whimpering as the faint glow intensified and began to peer through the cracks of its body.

In one single bright flash, the rock monster exploded in a shower of stone and ceased to be. The Super Nova collapsed to the ground, pulsing a few more times in its light before growing cold and dormant again.

Mike swung himself back up to his feet and stared around at the carnage, feeling exhausted and confused at the same token.

"…I could never do that before." He whispered to himself, coughing up a lungful of dust. But even as he finished saying that, he knew that it wasn't true.

A flash of something…a dream, or a memory, one of the two…

Seemed to tell him that such a thing had happened a long, long time ago.

Back when the Starseer had saved Argonia.

He picked up the Super Nova and trudged on, moving back towards the wall of stone statues that had moved to block his path. With the Golem destroyed, they now acquiesced to his approach, rumbling and grinding back to their original positions and opening the doorway once again. Mike trudged through, feeling his injuries beginning to get the best of him.

"…Mica…" Mike groaned, trying to remember what she had told him to do in order to heal himself.

Somehow, it was easier now, even if it was taxing on whatever reserve of hidden power he'd recently obtained. New energies, healing and gentle, pulsed through his body with another faint white glow, and he walked on. He was still tired, but no longer the battered warrior he had been, when he emerged into the chamber with the massive melted Argonian escape pod etched with the cipher.

He was relieved to find two individuals waiting there, crying out his name as he approached. He knew them…he had worried that they wouldn't be alive.

But now he knew they were.

Tears filling his eyes, Mike began to jog towards them, and didn't stop until the larger one had drawn him into a tight hug.

"Uncle Steve…" Mike choked out, glad for the embrace.

The old man ruffled Giskard Rorth's hair as the Argonian youth moved beside the two Joneses, admiration and relief in his eyes. "You came." Dr. Jones replied, failing to retain his composure. "You came."

* * *

Mike leaned up against the ruined Argonian escape capsule, resting his weary body as his mind tried to heal his injuries further. It seemed to hum in the back of his mind; on, but not requiring the full amount of his concentration. Much like breathing.

Giskard looked over at Doctor Jones, a realization sinking into his expression. "When you sent Sub-C back home…you were planning on Mike being able to make it back here, weren't you?"

Dr. Jones nodded, respect in his eyes. "My nephew is strong." He agreed, patting the boy on the arm. "Stronger than I had given him credit for. Strong enough to save you all once."

"But is he strong enough to do it again?" Giskard rumbled, eyeing over Mike's injuries.

The Earth boy finally opened his eyes, one hand lazily brushing up against the Super Nova at his side. "Whether or not I'm strong enough…I have to." He slowly pulled himself up, standing erect. "It was the last promise I made to Bana before she died…I promised I'd bring Mica back. I made that same promise to Ezilian, too. He's not going to kill her."

"The process will kill her, yes…but it's not just her death that he's after." Dr. Jones replied, his voice stern.

Mike looked up at him and frowned. "What are you getting at, Uncle Steve?"

"He's after the power of the Starseer. _Shilivre_." Giskard explained, deadpan as ever. "Mica is the strongest source of it; she became the inheritor of the Starseer's legacy when her mother was killed."

"He's going to start with her." Dr. Jones affirmed sadly. "Then, when he's taken everything from her…he'll turn to the others. It's genocide with a purpose, he's driven with a desire for power."

Mike's hand clenched into a fist, and the Super Nova hummed at his side in its faint white light. "I won't allow that to happen. He's not going to hurt her, I swear it."

Giskard smiled sadly at him. "You love her, don't you." It was a statement, not a question. Mike nodded once, no hint of doubt in him. "She told us…She had tried to keep herself from falling in love with you. But it didn't work."

"The Prophecy, Mike…It said that the Starseer would return and save them…But that the daughter of Sellarus would fall in love with him, and she would die at the hands of a new evil." Dr. Jones was calm, presenting the facts as he knew them.

"She's not going to die." Mike answered hastily. "I won't let her. I'll kill Zoda before I let him kill her!"

"You can't change fate." Giskard mumbled, slowly shaking his head. "You're the Starseer. You saved us. And now she'll die."

Mike stood up and slowly marched over to Giskard, his hand coming down like a snake to pinch down at the juncture between the Argonian's neck and shoulder. His eyes flashed with fire. "I don't believe in the Prophecy like you do, Giskard. And I still don't believe that I'm the Starseer. I don't believe that it's over. Not by a longshot."

Giskard winced for a few moments, but Mike released him after a time. The Argonian rubbed at his neck and looked around, shaking his head. "You use the Super Nova…The closest representation to _Ellini_ there could ever be. And the way your eyes flashed just now…That's Shilivre. It has to be." The youth sized Mike over. "And you're looking a lot better than you were when you first came in. Humans don't heal that fast; not without help."

Mike looked at his Uncle, then at the boy. "Do you think I'm the Starseer?" He asked evenly.

Giskard thought about it for a moment, then shrugged his shoulders. "What I think…is irrelevant. Princess Mica thinks you are. That's all that matters."

The hair on the back of Mike's neck rose up. "What makes you say that?"

Dr. Jones took his glasses off and rubbed at them, paler than before. "Giskard is right…Even if you are not their mythical hero reborn…to Princess Mica, you are. Which means she will let the Prophecy unfold as she knows it." The archaeologist looked at his nephew, hiding his worry. "She will not try to stop Zoda…from killing her."

Mike tensed up. "Blast it all…That's completely bogus, and you know it!"

Dr. Jones said nothing, and the boy exhaled. "You're right. You're right, I know it. There was always something she was afraid of…something she never told me. And this was it?"

"It seems likely." Giskard nodded. "So are you still going to try and save her?"

"I always was." Mike agreed, looking around. "That's what heroes do."

"But I thought you didn't believe you were the Starseer." Giskard retorted, lifting an eyebrow.

Mike closed his eyes. "I…I don't want to." He said quietly, remembering all the strange visions he had been having in the past few days. "But I'm still figuring that out." He pointed to the doorway leading north. "Did he take her that way?"

Dr. Jones shook his head and motioned to a previously unseen doorway going west from the room. "There's more to these ruins than you and I saw in our first adventures through here. He's in there somewhere."

Mike nodded. "And with him…Mica." He glanced back at them. "I've got Nav-Com waiting in the alcove harbor. You two run back there and get inside; lock Sub-C down and wait. With any luck, I'll be back with Princess Mica."

"But what if you don't come back?" Giskard asked, pointing out the silent question.

Dr. Jones settled a hand on his shoulder. "If Mike doesn't come back…then we'll have prevented Zoda from getting to Hirocon."

Mike blinked at that. "Say what?"

The archaeologist shook his head. "It's a long story, and there's no time for it now. Suffice it to say that there's more to the cipher than the instructions for how to undo the stasis cubes you found the children in! Now get going already! Every second you stand here is a second more that threatens the Princess' life!"

Mike had begun to dash off when Giskard remembered something. "WAIT!" He called out, and the Seattle native ground to a halt.

Giskard looked back to Dr. Jones. "Where's the yo-yo?" He asked, patting himself down. "I don't have it anymore!"

Dr. Jones smiled and reached into his pocket, pulling out the object and tossing it to Mike. "Giskard, that's not a bad idea. Every little bit…"

Mike fingered the object for a moment, marveling at the less powerful, but still useful weapon he had given Giskard at the beginning of their trip. It was nowhere near as strong or as effective as the Super Nova…But Uncle Steve was right. He was going to need all the help he could get.

"It will need a new string, but otherwise, it's undamaged." Dr. Jones explained. "The best of luck to you, Mike…And please. Come back alive. I don't really want to tell your father that you died under my watch."

Mike smiled and tucked the yo-yo away. "Farthest thought from my mind. Your trip back should be easy; I've cleared out the monsters. Just be careful of the traps along the way; there's a water trap you should especially be careful of."

Mike could have said more, but he didn't feel the need to. He gave the two one last nod, then charged off down the western hallway to his next goal.

Dr. Jones turned to Giskard and exhaled. "I feel like I've sent him to die." He said, miserable and guilty.

Giskard put a hand on the middle-aged man's shoulder and led him away from their now broken prison. "Mike will come through. He'll do it."

"Because he's the Starseer?" Dr. Jones asked.

Giskard smiled, a rarity, especially given their situation. "No." He said softly. "No, not because of that…"

"…Just because he's Mike."

* * *

It was a new set of corridors that Mike ventured into as he headed west; The rest of the ruins had been just that, but here time's ravages had not been as severe. Here, hallways still stood made of the same stonework that they had back when it was truly Rellini-Uros, and the forces of nature had not yet invaded it.

Runes, ancient Argonian script that he didn't have a chance of translating, glowed faintly against the walls in blue light. This was the home of Zoda, though it seemed so far out of character. It gave the impression of a calm and placid environment, not the sort of place that a destroyer of worlds could come from.

The Super Nova hummed at his side again, nervous and growling. Mike noted the reaction, and understood it.

_It doesn't like this place. These ruins are too old. Too watchful._

A lumbering figure up ahead groaned and began to shuffle towards him. Another one of the ruins' undead inhabitants, soon dispatched with a well placed shot of the supernatural mace. How many more would he strike down before they stopped coming? Would they ever stop coming?

Mike gritted his teeth and kept charging.

_Trying to slow me down. Trying to buy himself time. He knows that nothing here can stop me._ The Super Nova pulsed in agreement, no doubt between them. _Not as long as I have you. _

The shadows in the corridor grew wider in a patch of darkness…a section detached, whirring as it disengaged from the wall and came at him, some manner of rock-covered automaton hidden away until he came close. It tottered for a moment, then shot out a hissing projectile. Caught by surprise, the shot sunk into Mike's left shoulder, earning a gasp of dismay and anger from the boy before he swung out with his right arm, smashing the defensive mobile turret into stone and scrap.

Wincing, Mike looked down to his shoulder and examined the wound. A small needle of metal, sharp enough to pierce but not sharp enough to go all the way through, was embedded into his shoulder. Reaching up weakly with his good arm, he tried to pull it out, but it was too smooth for his sweaty fingers, and it refused to budge. "Heinous." Mike rasped, trying again. His fingers failed again, and he shook his head. "Totally heinous."

The Super Nova pulsed in his hand, and Mike chuckled.

"I'm going crazy. That's it. You're not actually talking to me. It's impossible. I've just been pushing myself for so long that…I'm going crazy." The Super Nova pulsed again, and Mike shook his head. "All right. Assuming you can actually think, you're trying to tell me something. But what?" The Super Nova didn't say anything, for it really couldn't say anything. But it didn't pulse either.

Mike closed his eyes. "You're telling me I can use Shilivre to take this thing out?"

The Super Nova pulsed again, brighter and stronger.

Mike kept his eyes closed and focused on the wound. It wasn't a hard thing to do; it was the strongest sensation in his body right now, the injury and the pain that came from it.

_If Mica were here…she could take care of this in an instant, I think. _But, Mike reminded himself, Mica wasn't there. Mica was somewhere up ahead, and if he didn't speed up things, it would soon be the end of her.

_You can do this. You know you can, Jones. You stopped Zoda once. You saved them once. You just fought off an animated golem, for crying out loud. You're not going to give in to a needle in your shoulder. You're NOT. You can use Shilivre, so USE IT. _

The mystical force he barely understood responded slowly, edging its way around the foreign object embedded into his shoulder, gently nudging it back and forth while the needle slid out.

About fifteen seconds later, it collapsed to the ground in a small trail of blood droplets from the now gaping wound. Mike gritted his teeth against the sensation and focused more. He had to move fast, so a complete heal was out of the question. But Mica had taught him enough about rudimentary healing, he hoped…

As it stood, his head was hurting from the intense concentration when the glowing aura of Shilivre finally mended the wound shut. It didn't do much for the pain, and his arm would be sluggish…but it would work. It would work well enough, and it wouldn't make him bleed to death. There was little else he could ask for.

_Short of a miracle??_

"We've only got a few of those today." Michael rasped, grinning at the dark joke as he jogged on, swinging quickly to eliminate the rest of the hallway's autonomous needle cannon guards before they could fire at him. Chunks of metal and mortar, stone and broken needle ammunition flew up against the dark walls, and he ran on.

_No sense wasting them on a fool like me._

* * *

_The Center of Rellini-Uros_

Mica had experienced a variety of sensations throughout her life; she had felt the pain of losing her mother in an explosion, the grief of knowing that her father was leaving her, and all the others to fend for themselves. She had felt fear from the monster known as Zodus, and the demon known as Zoda. She had suffered complete isolation and loneliness, the kind of sleepless nightmare that drove lesser souls mad. She had felt the return of warmth and caring hearts from the people of Coralcola.

She had known the dread of watching as her life unfolded exactly how the Starseer's prophecy had said the daughter of Sellarus' would…the heartbreak of trying to convince herself that Michael wasn't the one for her, and then the sweet oblivion that came with accepting his tender feelings and embrace.

Nothing prepared her for what this was. Chained down to a raised platform in a room of Rellini-Uros, she felt something entirely new. The exhausting, tiring, and mind numbing ordeal…that accompanied her Shilivre and her very life essence being drained out of her body, and being drained into Zoda.

Her eyes were beginning to blur around the edges, just enough for that haze of dozy sleep to threaten her. She felt weak. Before, she could have strained against the chains, even mustered a weak defense against his overwhelming brutal force…But now, even shifting her wrist seemed exhausting. She was dying, she knew, and there was little she could do about it.

This was the worst feeling of all.

_I've failed you, Mike. I've failed everyone. _

_Father…_

_Forgive me…_

Zoda was too busy using every ounce of concentration he had on his gruesome task of draining away her essence to notice her faint struggling and saddening mental state. Mica's eyes glanced up to his glowing red eyes, and the face of the human/Argonian half-breed hidden from view. A monster had been born, out of nothing more than jealousy and a thirst for power.

Mike had wanted no part of any of this. She had dragged him into it. Her father had dragged them all into it. And when Zoda triumphed today, he would not only kill what little remained of her world…but he would then start on Mike's.

No, that was the worst feeling of all. Even worse than dying, she decided.

Knowing that Mike was coming. Knowing that he would do everything in his power…die…

To save her. And knowing that, by the Prophecy…he would be too late. She would be dead, and then Mike would be at the mercy of Zoda. Entirely and completely supercharged with the vitality and essence of the Starseer.

A tear rolled out of the corner of her eye, wailing and screaming when her body could do little but tremble in silent paroxysms of grief. Zoda paid no notice to it, and continued his work.

_Forgive me, Mike…_

_I love you too much to lose you. And I know what he'll do._

Somehow, someway, she could sense him. He wasn't that far off, and he was blazing through Zoda's defenses at breakneck speed. Something had awakened in him, she realized. The Starseer had awakened in him.

Just like it had countless thousands of years ago. The Star Devils hunted…and the Starseer came to hunt them.

He was going to be too late to do anything. She wanted to scream out to him, to let him know that everything in his path was mere distraction…and that by the time he would finally arrive, it would be too late.

But she didn't have the energy for that. She didn't even have the energy anymore to cry.

Her vision blurred out, worse than before. Despite her grief, exhaustion overcame her. Mica's eyes drifted shut, and as they did, the last image on her tortured spirit was one of Zoda standing over her lifeless shell, ominously glaring at Mike with all the demonic ferocity he was capable of.

She would be dead. And he would die as well.

That was the last thought Princess Seremichaela Argos had before she slipped completely away.

Compared to the pain that this life brought her, oblivion was a welcome route. And unlike in the cubes…

This time, she truly did sleep.

* * *

_The Star Devils were monstrous both in temperament as well as appearance; a deadly combination for those facing them. Still, that didn't stop the Starseer._

_His people were hidden below the soil of their planet, far from the reach of the lifegiving sun, but also out of sight from the beasts that came from the very stars they worshipped. One stood beside him, though. Out of all the teeming masses that he had been chosen to protect, one single person had chosen to go with him._

_Maybe the stars had spoken to her too, though he felt no touch of the divine spark in her. Just a raw, determined force of will borne from grief and bitter forged hatred…and a trust and attraction to him that even somebody without _Shilivre_ could have seen._

_The Star Devils had created a stronghold on the surface of their world, in the middle of what had once been a lush and teeming field of grain in the temperate midplains. Had been. Now, dead and stagnant soil was all that remained, ominously guarding the unhallowed edges of the towering black spire that the leader of the Star Devils kept watch in. Countless rows of the lesser minions sent by the singular Star Devil had fallen before them as they charged at it, the Starseer's _Ellini_ snapping out in all directions to destroy the beasts it had been forged to fight. The young woman that fought beside him, the daughter of the former chieftain of some destroyed village known as Sellarus Argos did not have his divine gifts, but she fought with as much courage as he did, her sword and force of will somehow strong enough to fell the lesser beasts that escaped his notice. They moved and fought as one…and in those dark days, that kind of companionship, that level of friendship and trust was rare, and all the more powerful for it._

_The doors had fallen in moments, an explosive blast of energy shot forth from the Starseer's palm too much for the dark energies of the gate to handle. The closer they came, the closer to the leader of the Star Devils, the Star Devil himself that they came, the fiercer he fought. The more his talents emerged, the more wicked they became. Not even the most dreadful of the Devil Guardians could stop him, and soon she realized that she was falling behind…and that there was nothing more she could do to assist him. Reluctantly, she fell back and trailed behind him, unable to do anything but watch as he tore through the last remaining barriers and took them to the top of the black spire which the Star Devils had used to gaze over their land._

_He was breathing heavily; despite the awesome power he wielded, the continued exertion was growing to be too much. There was nothing left in their way, outside of the doorway which would lead to the Star Devil himself and he still did not stop. _

_Sellarus felt her breath catch in her throat as he straightened himself and glanced to the door. "He's waiting for me." He said, his eyes distant and seeing. "I must go alone."_

_"No!" She cried out, suddenly afraid for him. In that moment, everything snapped into focus. Why she followed him, why he inspired her, why she had listened to her heart…_

_She loved him. There was no denying that._

_He turned about and looked at her, a quiet pity and knowing in his eyes. He knew. He _knew._ Unable to stop herself, she took a step back and raised a hand to her throat, not wanting to gasp again. _

_"Sellarus…Where I'm going, you can't come with. Who I'm fighting, you can't hope to destroy. And if I don't do this, then your people will never be free. Never." He stepped towards her, Ellini hanging at his waist as he set his hands on her shoulders. Already beginning to feel her eyes burn from yet unshed tears, she looked up at him. _

_"I don't want to lose you." She whispered. "I…I…"_

_He drew her into a tight embrace, silencing her. "I know." He answered gravely, and she could tell her was fighting back tears as well._

_They stayed like that for what seemed an eternity, but she would have had two. Eventually he separated from her and nodded solemnly. "Get away from this place…Whether I live or not, this spire of the darkness will not stand." He concluded._

_Despite that warning, Sellarus could not move from where she stood as he turned about and pushed through the final doorway._

_The greatest challenge of his life lay beyond. And he was doing it for her people, truly…_

_But in her heart of hearts, she felt a feeling, a strong belief that had never been there before. Perhaps he had given her a little of his gift in that moment._

_He was doing it to save her._

* * *

Mike's voice was silent as he charged through the last lines. He knew he was getting close; the prior defenses had fallen, and every last stop that could be pulled had been. Countless rockformed sentries blasted from the ground in their skirmishing runs, and in the larger antechambers along the route, he faced upwards of six or seven of the 'Hoodoo Doll' guardian sentries at a time. They fought hard, and if he had seen such odds on his first trip through the ruins, he surely would have fallen. But that was then, and this was a different trip, a different reason to fight…And a far more important one.

His Super Nova was silent, not pushing its thoughts towards him. It merely attacked as he wished, and did that well. Running on Shilivre, adrenaline, and his own enraged emotions, Mike was unstoppable. It didn't help that the more he used the Super Nova, the more that flashes of a dream…or his past, the doubtful side of his mind urged…Kept rising up to the surface, whispering that this situation was not too far different from a battle that had been fought long ago.

_I'm not the Starseer. I'm not._ And in his mind, he wasn't. He couldn't believe it. The Prophecy was just that, but it had no bearing on him. Even now, after everything that had happened, a part of him struggled with it. Finding his Uncle and Giskard had been wonderful, but it hadn't eased his doubts any.

_I'm not._

The Super Nova hummed again, talking for the first time in their newest fight.

_I'M NOT! _Mike thought angrily, hurling the silvery mace and bashing another Hoodoo Doll's head clean off of its shoulders. What remained of the guardian collapsed onto the ground and fell silent, and Mike realized how hard he was breathing.

Sweat dripped down from his forehead into his eyes, not hard enough to keep him from seeing that the room had been cleared of every last foe. A sudden pain lanced through his head, causing him to choke out and slump to his knees, cringing in the headache.

The pulsing of the Super Nova slammed into his brain, time and time again.

_Oh no, all the concussions…_Frantically, Mike realized that the severe trauma he'd endured over the last few days was finally taking its toll. His fight with Ezilian, barely surviving the second C-Serpent, and then being tossed aside by Zoda had all been far too recent. All his athletic training told him that he should barely be moving from all the damage he'd incurred…yet clearly he was, and probably in no small part to Mica's…and his own…ministrations.

_**She thinks you are.**_

The pain cleared up in a moment as a new voice, singular, quiet, and ethereal, floated into his mind.

_W…what?_

_**Even if you don't think you're the Starseer, she does. And that's all that matters.**_

Mike stood up, shaking his head. _This isn't happening. Not now._

_**You've never been good at listening. That was as true then as it is now…but even so…I've missed you.**_

_Who are you?_

Mike turned about in every direction, glaring his eyes. _Blast it, I don't have time for this! I have to stop Zoda, and save Mica!_

The voice sighed in agreement. _**You won't like what's coming. But you must go. And I will go with you.**_

Mike rolled his eyes as he started off running again. He was close now.

_I didn't ask for your help._

The voice seemed to smile at that. _**Actually…you did. **_Mike thought on that for a moment longer, but not willing to stop his maddening quest, he pushed it aside. The voice fell silent, content for the moment.

Somehow, he could sense Zoda beyond this next, last stretch of hallway. Every defense had been breached, every barrier broken.

Mica was there. She was weak. She wasn't even awake anymore. In his sight, given to him by Shilivre, Zoda's aura was a massive black, and hers was a faint and paler green light. It flickered for a few more moments…And then fell completely silent.

"No…" Mike called out, stunned as he lost his concentration and the vision as well.

_She was…He couldn't have…_

_MICA…_

"MICA!!" Mike screamed out, his lungs burning from the oxygen he denied them.

It only made him run faster. Every part of him burned now, he didn't care about his lungs. Every part of him was left quivering in terror, hoping and begging with the powers that were, to God and to the stars that the Coralcolans and the Argonians worshipped…

That he hadn't seen her flame die. That it wasn't too late.

It couldn't be too late.

Not like this.

No.

_NOT_

_LIKE_

_THIS_

* * *

_The Center of Rellini-Uros_

She had gone quietly. At the end, her eyes had fallen shut, her tremblings had ceased, and her skin had grown cold. Every mote of her Shilivre, every part of her life's strength had been torn from her by the cold void that was Zoda's one great gift of the Starseer's legacy. His strength had been a lack of it; too long had the madman thought himself simply a defect, a child half of Argonia and half of Earth that could not use the gifts promised to his people, by luck of his mixed heritage. Only after coming to Argonia, _invited_ by King Hirocon had he found that his was perhaps the best…and most dangerous…gift of all of Shilivre's talents.

To drain the strength of the Starseer from others, to his own benefit. It had been easy the first few times…Assaulting nobility on their way home from operas and balls as they crossed by dark alleys. Even with their talents, they had been no match. And when their bodies were found the next morning, dead to the world…well, the wounds left on them clearly pointed to assault. Nobody ever suspected that they were actually being killed by having their energies torn from them. No, not ever.

His great mistake, Zoda had come to realize in his drifting years of exile in space, was that he had been too greedy. He had attacked Queen Tanelia Argos too soon, without planning it out entirely. She had survived, and the true darkness of his spirit, his malevolent desires were exposed. All his plans were destroyed, and he had nothing but vengeance.

It had left him with something more. At first, he had hoped only to claim the truest powers of the Starseer from the most pristine lineage of Sellarus. By a stroke of odd fortune, he had found that the drain, while it had not killed her, had lent him insight into her mind, and the deepest secrets kept there. To the _REAL_ prophecy of the Starseer, not just the heroic tale told to the children over the fireplace. When he had been picked up by a roving band of space pirates, a ragtag group of marauders months later and far beyond Argonian space, he had thought long and hard. His revenge would be poetic, by their deepest hidden fears…and absolute.

He returned, altered and mutated and forever changed. Forevermore, never as Zodus, but eternally as Zoda, the Prime Invader, the warlord of a dreaded Space Pirate fleet he had carved from that single crew with ruthlessness, tenacity, coldhearted intelligence, and the gifts which made him all but a God to those who served him, and those who would serve him. His one great fear was that the prophecy WOULD come true, that he was the great evil returned…and that the Starseer would also return to quell his ambitions.

But no threat came. Argonia burned.

And then Hirocon ruined everything. He had helped the last survivors of Argonia, the six noble children and his daughter Seremichaela escape from Zoda's clutches. And somehow…he had then escaped himself, far beyond the reach of Zoda, somewhere in the mists of the temporal realms Hirocon had often wistfully described. He knew that now; Hirocon was somewhere in the time stream, beyond the modern age. Hiding. Waiting. Biding his time.

And now all had fallen into place. Rellini-Uros was reborn. Princess Mica…dead.

And lurching up, drunk with the rush of power and roaring with the revelry of it, Zoda the Prime Invader had at last won. The power of the Starseer was his. The stars were with him. And this world…all worlds…were now his.

A flash of light beyond his normal vision stopped him. With his newly gained power, Zoda detected in all that he gazed upon one glaring flaw in his well oiled plans.

The boy. Michael Jones. He had survived all that Rellini-Uros could throw at him. And now he was here.

Zoda stepped back from the raised pedestal where Mica's lifeless body lay. About him glowed Shilivre…But a Shilivre tainted and dark, all his own.

"The hero comes for his Princess." Zoda rumbled, gazing down at his clawed gauntlet as he curled it into a fist. "Only this time…The hero is too late."

Beneath his helmet, the glowing red eyes burned brighter.

"We shouldn't disappoint him." He said, the malice in his voice dripping as he gave Mica's empty shell one last sneer.

Zoda turned about and left the chamber, heading for the anteroom where Mike would soon enter. Oh, he would enjoy murdering this fool.

And then…truly then…the Prophecy would be complete.

_It will be a love adored by the stars, but pitied._

_In the hour of darkness, at the hands of a new Devil from the stars, our love will bring death, and your candle will be extinguished once more._

If this boy was the Starseer…

Then it would be by his own power that he would die this day.

* * *

_Chamber of the Stars_

_Rellini-Uros_

The stone door slid up to allow him passage, and Michael Jones stepped through. The room was large, long, and without traps, foes, or hazards. It was, for all purposes…just a room. On one side of it, he stood tall and firm. He had to, if only for Mica's sake. The stone door slammed shut behind him, and his hands reflexively clenched and unclenched into fists.

Sixty feet away, in the hollow chamber lined with fluorescent lichens and weeds that gave it its own bluish green glow, the target of his rage, his vengeance, and his quest as a whole stood as menacingly as he ever had.

"You've come a long way, boy." Zoda announced darkly, folding his gauntleted arms as he stared at the impetuous youth. "Farther than I would have expected."

"What have you done with Mica?" Mike demanded, his voice trembling.

Zoda looked at him for a long moment, his red eyes smoldering in his helmet. "How quaint. Heroic to the last, he cares only for the welfare of his beloved." He sneered those words, relishing them.

Mike's hands shook, not in fear, but in an emboldening rage. "I don't care if the you I beat before was a fake, Zoda…When I'm through with you, you're not getting back up!!"

Zoda unfolded his arms, the long purple cape that he wore billowing behind him from the movement. "Brave words, boy." Zoda growled. "But can you really muster the strength to hope to defeat me?! I destroyed Argonia, I overwhelmed the strongest users of Shilivre from the Argonian refugees on your little island. I even destroyed that old woman."

Mike shook his head. "And you will pay for every death…To save Mica, I have to defeat you."

Zoda laughed, darker than he had all day. The black aura that surrounded him blazed to full life, overwhelming Mike's senses. But something in it struck at his core…something in that roiling mass of Shilivre was a presence and force he knew, intimately so.

His heart stopped. _MICA._

_**"It's too late to save her, BOY. Your Princess Mica is dead."**_

"No…" Mike rasped, not wanting to believe it. "That can't be…it's impossible. NO. NO!!"

Drunk on his power, Zoda let out a long throaty warbling laugh. _**"The Starseer's strength lies in ME now!" **_He roared, the dark light flaring around him all the stronger. _**"The line of Sellarus is dead…And this world, all worlds are MINE TO CONQUER!!"**_

Mike bit his lip, fighting back the tears. "You killed her." He choked out, his voice strangely hollow. "I promised everyone…I promised them…And you killed her…"

His hand numbly went down to the Super Nova at his side, feeling its pulsing strength rush up through his arm.

_**Where you go, I go with you.**_

"I'll never forgive you." Mike uttered, looking to Zoda with empty eyes. Fingers tightened around the glowing silvery mace, drawing it out. "And I will stop you. I must stop you."

_**"You couldn't stop me if you had Ellini itself."**_ Zoda rasped, tiring of the boasts between them.

The darkness of the room was shattered in an instant, and the Super Nova blasted out peals of light in all directions. All his bravado was melted away as Zoda cringed from the light, hissing and covering his eyes.

When the light had died down enough for him to look up again, the Super Nova in Mike's hand pulsed light, now visible to all. More curious than that, more intimidating than that was the fiery aura of Shilivre that flickered about him…and eyes that shone a solid radiant white.

_"Maybe I do." _Mike uttered, and in that moment, his voice trembled with a resonance that had never been there before. Zoda stood up and looked at the boy in shock and dismay.

_**"No…You're not the Starseer. It's impossible!"**_

_"The Prophecy said the Starseer would return. It said that Sellarus reborn would perish by a new Devil…And Mica is dead."_ Mike took a step forward, and the Super Nova blazed brighter.

_"The Prophecy stands correct in that…And by that, you will die as well."_

_**"You're not the Starseer!" **_Zoda exclaimed again, insistent.

Mike continued to walk towards him, heedless of the power Zoda wielded.

_"And yet I must be." _His shifting voice lulled. _"For we've done this before."_

* * *

**Argonia**

_Fall of the Star Devils_

_The leader of the beasts from their beloved stars was a brute; four heads taller than the Starseer and broad as a sun, he towered over his foe. But that fact escaped the young man of the glowing aura. It didn't matter that the Star Devil, as he called himself, had decimated his people and poisoned the land with the presence of his kind. It didn't matter that just to look at him would inspire fear and terror in all who looked._

_He had been chosen by the stars to save his people…to save Sellarus' people. That mandate had forever changed him…for he now saw things as they truly were. _

_He saw how the stars shimmered and sang, anxiously waiting for their champion to dismiss the fallen warrior. He saw the Star Devil for what he truly was…an exiled celestial being, once of the light, but now and forevermore of eternal darkness. There was no fear in his eyes, for that had been burned away by the _Shilivre_ he had been given. Ellini in his hand, a teardrop from the youngest star in the sky, he fought the Star Devil's attacks with his own ferocious blitz._

_And he was winning._

_Angrily, the Star Devil hurled a cloud of his enveloping darkness at the Starseer, hoping to engulf him and snuff out that celestial flame once and for all._

_That was all the Starseer needed. After endless rotations of a clock's dial, the Star Devil had exposed himself. In his superior fashion, he had thought the Starseer nothing but a carrier, an instrument to wield Ellini and the star's grace. It was his pride that ended his life…for the Starseer did have Ellini, and it was a celestial weapon, but he had his own strength as well._

_In the total darkness of the chamber, lit only by the light that poured forth from Ellini's shimmering tines, the Starseer's eyes shone clear._

_"Fly." He whispered to the chained mace, hurling it out before the cloud of darkness engulfed him. Caught off guard, the Star Devil was dealt a serious blow, and he fell to a knee wheezing for his life. Ellini, its attack concluded, fell to the ground. Through his pain, the Star Devil managed an insane grin._

_He had won…even now, the cloud of the void's darkness was shrinking, crushing the Starseer within its maw. The Starseer's battle for his people, for his planet, was ended. _

_And then everything the Star Devil knew to be true exploded into pieces._

_The shadow stopped and trembled about the hidden body of the Starseer, as if contemplating its next move. Out of the cloud flashed a tremendous light, and the Star Devil's crushing attack was blasted to shreds._

_The Starseer slowly stood back up, a thick and powerful aura of white energy about him. The Star Devil cringed in horror and dismay; it had known such power once, and had lost it. Now, that strength was anathema. Awestruck, realizing his end was at hand, the Star Devil looked up to the youth._

_The stars were with him._

_"Sellarus' people will forever be safe from you." The Starseer proclaimed, extending his hand out. Eager and loyal, Ellini leaped through the air to rejoin its master. "Never again will they ever fear your kind. Never again will the stars be anything but friend and ally to them. You sought to eradicate us…but because of you, Sellarus' people will spread throughout the stars, and bring light to every dark corner."_

_If the Star Devil could have spoken something in response, it would have cursed him. Weakened and defeated, it realized too late its horrendous error. Soon, the void it had pledged itself to would claim him as well. The Star Devil closed his eyes, and the Starseer threw Ellini one last time._

_In a cloud of vapor, a pool of sludge, the Star Devil collapsed and disintegrated under the blistering rage of the stars' might. Ellini flickered a few more times in the Starseer's grip, then fell silent._

_The Starseer himself was also weakened…but had enough strength, as he felt the black spire of the Star Devils begin to shake apart without a master, to will himself beyond its walls._

_So it came to be that as the black spire collapsed, the man known only as the Starseer and the weapon known as Ellini reappeared beyond its dustcloud. Waiting for them as they gave out and fell to the barren ground was a woman of impassable beauty and a heart of the purest spirits._

_Crying as she held him close, Sellarus Argos trembled with the joy of countless years of suffering ended in one triumphant moment. _

_"You did it." She whispered, feeling a burning sensation along the back of her neck as the skies cleared…and for the first time in years, the sun above their world shone down in its blinding might. "You've saved us all."_

_The stars above, invisible in the restored day but always present, still whispered their secrets to their champion._

_The Starseer closed his eyes and fought the urge to cry. They had told him a great deal in his time as their elected messenger._

_There was only one last message they had to give to him, now that the Star Devil was destroyed and Sellarus' people were free to live and thrive._

_For the first time since he had been given the strength of the stars, the Starseer cursed them. _

_For he had won their happiness…by foregoing his. _

_Sellarus wanted him to stay, to be with her. To raise a family, to stay as one spark the rest of her days._

_Only the stars knew what destiny was truly meant for him._

* * *

_**Earth, Rellini-Uros**_

_June 30__th__, 1990 A.D._

11: 44 A.M.

As shocked as Zoda was, he had the sensibility to fight back. And fight he did. Growling angrily, he pulled the laser pistol from his waist and pointed it at the boy.

"You talk nonsense, boy…And this time, you shall die." He rasped, the darkness in his voice pulled away. He would need every bit of Shilivre he had taken to defeat this boy, the boy who walked with…

Angrily, Zoda pulled the trigger. "YOU ARE NOT THE STARSEER!!" A fiery bolt of superheated gas shot out, ready to burn a hole clean through Mike's chest.

But as it had twenty years before…With Hirocon on the other end back then…The laser blast stopped in midair, roiling angrily as it was frozen.

Mike lifted a hand up to it, marveling at the strength that flowed through him.

_**This is your strength. The same power you had then. The same power you've convinced yourself you do not have.**_

_Because I thought I wasn't the Starseer._

_**That's what Zoda thinks**_, the gentle voice in Mike's head replied. _**But you know better.**_

"Impossible…" Zoda rasped, firing again. The second bolt was halted right next to the first, as did the third and even the seventeenth. Angrily, Zoda threw the gun itself at Mike, which froze in midair as quickly as all the other blasts. "Blast it, how are you doing this?!"

His eyes still bathed in the same blinding white light, Mike could feel every bolt of laser energy in the air as keenly as if he had shot them himself.

_I don't want to be the Starseer._

_**You didn't then, either. But you were. And you are now. The Argonians believe you are. Bana believed in you. And Mica…Mica died because she believed you were the Starseer so badly, she died to maintain a Prophecy she had been cursed with since her birth. Only Zoda didn't believe you to have such potential…So prove him wrong.**_

Mike's eyes fluttered down to the Super Nova at his side, a sudden realization flashing in him. _You're…_

_**A tool by which you will restore peace to the stars. Nothing more, nothing less.**_ The Super Nova pulsed another wave of light, and Mike couldn't help but let out a cackle of disbelief.

_All this time…All this time, you really were Ellini…_

_**Was I? **_It teased him lightly. _**That is what the Argonians called me. You named me 'Super Nova'. I just am.**_ _**But Mike…this isn't the time. If you are to do this…you must let nothing distract you from Zoda. **_

Mike looked up and away from his weapon, back to Zoda. The demon was building up his strength, and a field of enveloping darkness was quickly blooming.

"Stop _this_, you fool." Zoda growled, lifting his hand.

Mike blinked at Zoda, and waved his hand with a fierce slash. Every laser blast he had stopped reversed direction, and Zoda's attack quickly turned into a defensive shield against the torrent of his own attack. Most were stopped short, but a few sank through and singed off pieces of the thick armor Zoda wore. Hissing angrily, Zoda lowered the shield and let his baleful red eyes glow all the brighter.

"A cute trick…Hirocon used it as well. It did him no good in the end." Zoda let his black aura flare up again. "The power of the Starseer resides in me, and it will crush you."

Mike readied his Super Nova for another powerful strike, and the light in his eyes died down. It was draining him too much to maintain the effect…and like Zoda, he needed every ounce he could muster.

"Funny thing." Mike retorted, speaking in his own voice again. The Super Nova flew, straight, fast, and unrelenting. Zoda brought his gauntlets up and deflected it aside, wincing as the spikes dented the strong metal. "I've got the power of the Starseer too."

The Super Nova returned to his hand, and Mike shook his head at the beast. "And unlike yours…Mine wasn't stolen."

Zoda growled at that. "You mean to tell me that you had access to Shilivre all along?!" He lunged at Mike and swung with his wicked clawed hands, but the youth quickly darted out of range, another swing of his Super Nova stopping any pursuit. "You're a fool!"

_I've been called a lot of things. _

Even for as much power as Mike had, he had no mastery. It was a skill he had only begun to touch on, and only with Mica's help. He had failed, according to Ezilian, to use even the most basic of its aggressive powers. And the trick with the laser blasts…Now that his mind had cleared, Mike placed the success of that solely on the Super Nova…which had somehow learned how to talk to him.

Everything told him he was the Starseer. And still, he couldn't believe it.

_**You're cute sometimes, but this isn't one of those moments.**_

_Why don't you just keep in mind which one of us is the weapon, and which one's the person, Nova?_

_**Nova…An acceptable name. Well, then. Don't just stand there. Throw me already.**_

"Way ahead of you." Mike finished, swinging the mace about his head and hurling it at Zoda. The alien darted underneath it and sent out a slashing wave of black energy towards him, which Mike jumped. The Super Nova reeled itself in, and Mike threw it out again.

"You'll never hit me with that weapon, boy!" Zoda goaded him with a dark laugh. "Come now, where's the might of the Starseer you were boasting about earlier?!"

Mike gritted his teeth. He could feel that strength pulsing in him…but for as strong as it was, as much as he doubted it, it loomed all the darker in Zoda. Dark and thick.

Zoda halted his attack and addressed him with a low chuckle. Uneasily, Mike edged backwards away from Zoda. The alien was far too comfortable with the situation…and the laugh didn't help one bit.

"I think I'm beginning to understand you, boy." Zoda rumbled. "You may have the Starseer's strength as I do…but it's an untrained skill. You can't use it. You never could."

Mike's eyes flashed, and he gripped the Super Nova tighter.

_Yes I could. I didn't think I could, but I did. I have. _

_**You will.**_

Mike roared and charged at Zoda full tilt. The rush caught the beast off guard, and he backpedaled before throwing a few quick bolts of crackling darkness outwards. Mike, inflamed and beyond reason any longer, charged on. Most of the shots missed. One hit his free arm, another burned into his leg. Somehow, Mike didn't feel any pain at all. He just got closer to Zoda, closer to those glaring red eyes and the darkness that swallowed his vision.

Close enough to swing his mace at last. Close enough that for the first time in the entire night, Zoda had no recourse, no way to avoid it. The Super Nova flew true from the hand of the injured youth and buried into Zoda's gut.

Zoda gasped out in pain as the long and glistening silvery spikes embedded deep into him. Mike whirled in closer and laid a tremendous powerhouse to the side of Zoda's helmeted head, jarring him sideways.

_"I don't need Shilivre to kill you again." _Mike rasped, his eyes glimmering in the warspark.

Zoda's own eyes, cringing from his wounds, still widened at that sound. The boy meant it.

Every last word.

Zoda roared out in pain and flung his arms backwards, the nightshade aura about him exploding viciously for a long moment. The Super Nova hesitated and detached from Zoda's wound, and Mike stumbled backwards, reeling from the sudden burst.

Zoda took advantage of that, giving no quarter and no longer expecting any. He charged straight into Mike, his clawed gauntlets slashing viciously through the front of Mike's shirt and cutting deep into his skin. Wasting no time, he slashed his other hand across Mike's throwing arm, and Mike dropped the Super Nova with a cry of pain.

From there, the alien invader picked up Mike by his other arm and tossed him as a mother would a child's rag doll. Unable to stop, Mike flew across the room and slammed hard against the thick rock wall of the chamber. The gasp he let out couldn't cover up the sickening crack of bone or the dislocation of muscle and cartilage; as he collapsed to the ground, Mike realized through his dulled, adrenaline rushed senses that Zoda had crushed his left shoulder blade and dislocated his entire arm. To make matters worse, a few of his ribs were bruised…or worse.

Mike rolled to the floor, balancing himself on his right side as the pain ran through him fresh, paralyzing him entirely.

_It hurts, oh GOD it hurts…_

Zoda wheezed in and out a few times before letting out a tremendous and horrible laugh. His aura was as strong as ever, and slowly his own wounds began to seal up. "It's over, boy." He echoed darkly. "You've failed. You put up one Hell of a fight, but you have failed."

Gasping for breath in short rasps, Mike forced himself to keep his eyes open against the tears of pain to look at Zoda. His body still writhed, but there was little that could be done for that.

"You were a persistent one." Zoda continued, any humor fast vanishing. "You've been more trouble than I could have ever anticipated. But you obviously aren't the Starseer. You never were. A delusion, a fairy tale. An old story used by the daughters of Sellarus to maintain their hold over Argonia, and every last spirit in their reach. If the legends were true, then you would have been able to stop me. And none of this would have happened."

Somewhere in his mind were the lingering, nagging doubts that Mike still held about his own destiny…about the Starseer, and the Prophecy, and all the damnable rest. Somewhere was far from his mindset. Those doubts, fickle things as they were, were driven away by the intense pain of his wounds.

And an even worse pain. The pain from his heart…the pain Mike felt, knowing that he had failed Mica. He had failed everybody.

_**You don't have to.**_ Again, Nova spoke, in that soothing and wise voice that implied some hidden knowledge the boy would never acquire. _**Get up. Get up and fight. FIGHT, damn you. You're better than this, STRONGER than this. Now, more than ever!**_

In ultimate darkness, cowering at death's door with his enemy above him, a single voice was all Mike needed.

He closed his eyes. He pushed aside the pain. The pain had pushed aside his doubts.

All that was left…was just tranquility, acceptance, and a will fueled by the wishes and hopes of those who had died believing in him, and in something greater than all of them when he never could.

Perhaps Mike wasn't the Starseer, some foreign observer might still argue.

The renewed and flaring aura of white that glowed about Michael D. Jones as he lay prone in the cavern of Rellini-Uros, though, told a different story. If he was not the Starseer, Mike fought and lived as him. If Mike did not believe in the Starseer, he nonetheless accepted, in that moment, that he had to put everything aside for this one moment.

For this one minute.

For this one fight…

To kill Zoda.

Zoda, lost in his gloating, stopped when the white aura reappeared around Mike, no longer a gentle shimmer, but a hot and blinding fire. "What…?" He stuttered a moment later, confused and dismayed.

On the ground, discarded but never forgotten, the Super Nova hummed and trembled where it lay.

_**Make your arm whole.**_

Mike thought of it, thought of bones mending and muscle and tendon and socket reconnecting…And just as if an artist had redrawn him, the injury was gone and he had use of it.

_**Now get up.**_

Mike slowly raised himself up to his feet, still immolated in the white field that scorched the rock at his feet.

"Impossible…" Zoda rasped, not for the only time that day.

His eyes nothing but flickering orbs of intense radiance, the boy slowly shook his head back and forth.

"I don't care…about what's impossible. I don't care about destiny." Mike lifted a hand up, a steady and unshaking hand pointing directly at the beast that had once been Zodus. "But I made a promise. A promise to see you dead, and to save all the others. Bana believed in me. Mica believed in me. They all did."

He took a step towards Zoda, the spirit willing even as the body, repaired though it was, grew weaker still. _"They believed I was the Starseer. And right now…The truth doesn't matter. My name isn't BOY."_

His hand jerked down towards the stones at his feet, and the Super Nova flew up to meet his grasp eagerly, responding to the call.

_"The truth of me and the Prophecy doesn't matter." _His white aura crackled and sent off peals of jagged energy bolts. _"As long as you're alive…I'll be whoever I have to be to kill you."_

Zoda drew back, urging his own aura forth to its full fury, feeding that unnatural and stolen strength deep into his body for the battle to come. "You'll regret this foolhardiness, Jones! I'll tear you to pieces and bathe in your blood!!"

The Super Nova lashed out. It struck across Zoda's face with tremendous force, and the alien invader cried out. So ferocious was the blow it knocked his protective headgear clean off…Stunned, Zoda looked with his own eyes and cruel face towards Mike, now horrified.

Mike hadn't moved his arm at all, or swung even the tiniest bit.

The Super Nova had flown on its own.

Mike stood before him, tall, enfused with Shilivre's radiant white light, and now and forevermore, unafraid.

_"I'm not Mike.." _He said, in an empty voice that made the bastard half-Argonian shudder involuntarily. _"I AM the Starseer."_

* * *

The Super Nova swung back through the air on a return course, but Zoda recovered from his disbelief enough to snarl and duck his gashed head away from the deadly weapon as it flew back into Mike's hand.

His aura flashed into its full darkness, tendrils reaching out and lashing angrily with the white wisps of Shilivre that Mike put off. "You're just a damned CHILD." Zoda roared, hurling a shattering bolt of darkness at his foe. Mike lifted a hand up, and Zoda's shot dissipated on contact. The Super Nova snaked out, moving with just the barest flick of Mike's wrist, and Zoda dashed underneath it, his clawed hands burning with his energy as he flew across the distance between them and slashed at Mike's chest. The boy grunted as the front of his shirt was torn even more, and thin lines of blood from the claw's scratches rose to the surface. Mike swung up with his offhand and leveled a powerhouse blow to Zoda's chin, sending the alien stumbling back a few feet, and just in time to have the returning Super Nova bury into his back. Zoda arched up and screamed in pain, jerking himself free of the wicked mace and building a distance between them.

Mike's eyes were fire as the Super Nova returned to his hand again. "You will die." The gashes across his chest bled, yet he took no notice of it.

"You can't presume to tell me my future!" Zoda roared, his common sense blinded by pain and fury. "The power carried by the daughters of Sellarus is MINE. MINE!!" To emphasize the point, he threw a hand in front of him and fired off another blast of energy. This time though, it wasn't a single bolt, but an unrelenting beam.

Mike's aura flared up, white Shilivre met black, and the boy cringed. The part of his aura that Zoda's attack slammed against began to weaken and flicker, and Mike lowered his left hand down in front of it.

Zoda, sweating and burning through the power he had been given, laughed again. "I can see the look in your eyes, boy! You've lost! You have no idea how to use your power to strike back, to meet my fury!" Mike grunted and dropped to a knee, fighting against the force that tried to push him back. "And all you can do is sit there; sit there and watch your defenses weaken until it is too late!"

Mike drew his eyes shut. _Energy attacks…The one thing I never could get._

The Super Nova, having already said enough, kept silent. This challenge was for Mike to solve on his own.

Zoda drew closer, forcing the source of his attack towards Mike's weakening defenses. "I'm done taking chances." He growled, and the beam grew larger, heavier, hotter. "No second winds. No last heroic moment. When I'm done with you, you'll be atoms in the void of space."

Mike's chest felt tight from the strain of his defense. _He's right. I can't keep this up forever._ Strong as he was, it was untrained. It was imperfect. And Zoda, even with stolen power, would triumph if they left it at this.

Mike could not look outside of his own problem. He could not step back and look impartially upon the situation. But at its heart, his duel with Zoda was just another classical bout of good versus evil. In the darkest hour, the hero fought the villain, struggling and not winning by any measure. The two exchanged blows, brought steel and will against one another…

Yet, it was a story like any other. As in any story classically told, it would be good who triumphed. In lack of overpowering Zoda entirely, Mike reached within himself…and found an answer that would fit the bill. Through the ruffled and sweat ridden strands of his brown hair, his eyes of burning white looked up to Zoda.

"But I'm not done with _you."_ Mike retorted, allowing his voice to take on the shimmer he gained from his power. His right hand pulled back for a moment and then shot forward, hurling the Super Nova out of his shield. His body swung about to compensate, and his left hand dipped down to his side from the momentum.

Zoda seemed to smirk at the move. Still keeping his blazing attack going, he sidestepped the silvery mace as it flew by, the chain dancing along his underarm. He was confident, seeing that Mike's attack had failed.

It was only when he tried to reset his arm that he noticed something was wrong. Frowning, he tried to move his hand again. It didn't respond, as if some great weight kept it down. Zoda looked at Mike, to find the boy looking at him in fiery defiance. From Mike's forgotten left hand was a long length of string…leading to a small double-sided discus colored red that was looped tightly around his wrist, keeping him from moving his hand and arm.

"_Surprise."_ Mike growled, yanking hard on the cord of his island yo-yo. Zoda could do little else but yelp as he was pulled in close to Mike, his attack ended by the loss of concentration. Mike's left hand swung up from its pullback and rammed hard into Zoda's face, making a terrific cracking noise that likely meant he had broken the alien's nose. The yo-yo detached and a stunned Zoda stumbled backwards, his hands reaching up to cradle his injured face. Mike then yanked his right arm back…and the chain he held, connected to the forgotten Super Nova.

There was another sharp blast of pain into Zoda as the silvery mace connected solidly into his back, and his vision went white for a long moment. Dully, he could make out the sound of Mike screaming and charging at him. His vision cleared just in time to make out Mike up in the air, hurtling down at him feetfirst. Zoda, wheezing from the pain of his injuries, managed a halfhearted swipe that still struck home, the claws slashing deep through the clothes and skin of his left leg. Crying out in his attack, and then the pain, Mike still did not stop. Gravity demanded he didn't.

The boy connected solidly into the alien, and the two fell towards the ground, Zoda on the bottom of the bloody pile.

Impact.

The world went white. A gasp rose up, followed by short rapid breaths.

Mike's sight cleared, and he groggily shook his head. Beside him, Zoda withered and gasped for air. Strangely, his arms and legs remained limp, though his face and chest shook madly. Blinking a few times, Mike realized why the alien invader's eyes were so wide, and why his torso was so out of alignment with the rest of him…

The silvery spines of the Super Nova, coated in blood and tissues from his chest cavity, poked clear through all of Zoda's purple and black clothing, and thick armor. His breathing was erratic, and a dark red spot blossomed from the base of one spine that had been fortunate enough to pierce his heart.

More than that, Mike realized from his studies of anatomy…There was a reason that his face shook and trembled, while the rest of his form laid mute.

The Super Nova, that glistening star given from the sky, had crushed through his back and severed his spine from the force Mike had created when he drove Zoda into the floor.

Mike cringed, feeling his leg go numb. Zoda was dying, but he'd sustained his own injuries. Broken ribs, bruises, bumps, exhaustion, fatigue…and a leg that bled profusely, and refused to work properly. Zoda and Rellini-Uros had exacted a toll from him.

"Not…like this…" Zoda gasped, his eyes blinking frantically. He focused in on Mike, disbelieving, horrorstruck as the black aura about him began to dwindle and fade. "No…Impossible…You…not…arseer…"

Mike stood up and balanced himself on his good leg, looking down with empty eyes to the alien invader. His white aura grew quieter, and his blue eyes returned to normal.

"I was today." He uttered softly. "For Bana. For the children. For Mica."

Zoda's eyes shut, blinking out hot tears as his breathing came up more shallow. "Never…believed…just…a myth…Even Tanelia…delusion…but you…"

Mike looked down at his hated foe. The source of his every nightmare. "You didn't want to believe it. Even as you lived it out, you didn't believe it. And it killed you."

Zoda drew in a breath to say something more, but his failing body gave out, and his last breath exited his punctured lungs silently, carrying nothing but the final wisps of his spirit as he expired. Mike glanced down at him for a long moment, then kicked the body over and retrieved his Super Nova with a powerful yank. It flickered in his hand, relieved and enthused.

_**And because you chose to finally believe…You succeeded.**_

Mike took a look down at Zoda, remembering for a moment the history that his Uncle and Giskard had shared.

"I accepted it." Mike said softly, to the empty and lifeless room around him. Wincing, he tucked the yo-yo back into his pocket and retied the Super Nova at his side. He looked across the room behind Zoda and saw the door that led to the innermost sanctum…to where Mica lay, waiting for him in whatever condition Zoda had left her.

He shut his eyes against the tears, as he thought of her lifeless body, and the Prophecy that had decreed her demise through all the turmoil.

_But I still don't want to believe._

* * *

She lay in the next room as Mike had hoped not to find her. Lying on a raised pedestal in the center of the chamber, no wounds or marks. Yet her eyes did not open. She did not rise. And no breath came from her parted lips.

Failing to hold back a shuddering breath, Mike stumbled towards her, his blue eyes blurry from the tears.

_No._

"Mica…" He heard his voice break. "Mica, get up. It's Mike." Still, she did not stir. Choking a sob, Mike lifted a trembling hand up and brushed her cheek, pushing an errant strand of her deep red hair back. "Please." He said, and his voice cracked again. _"Please."_

Her face was cool to the touch; the room's dampness had seeped into her, and soon her lifeless body would be as cold as the air about her. Mike shut his eyes and fell to his knees at her side, and his fists clenched into vises. He leaned his forehead against her leg, and screamed.

All of Rellini-Uros shook from it, from the exit to the underwater entrance, and everywhere in between.

Princess Mica was dead. Zoda had spoken no lie. Her Shilivre, her very life energy had been drained from her. It had been HER power Mike had fought against, usurped by the most unholy beast he had ever known.

Mica was dead.

His breath gave out, his throat grew sore. Mike fell into sobs, and his hot tears sunk into her royal purple trousers. "No." He gasped. "No no no no NO." He pounded a fist against the pedestal where she lay. "You can't be dead, you CAN'T."

Yet she was.

_**The Prophecy is coming true. She lies, dead by the hands of a new star devil. And you, the Starseer reborn, have saved Argonia.**_

"She's dead." Mike blurted out, slamming his hand against the stone again. "What does it matter?! How does ANYTHING matter?!"

_**You have fulfilled your destiny. **_

"FORGET MY DESTINY!" Mike screamed again, wishing he could throw the Super Nova against the wall, shatter it, and never see it again. His heart bled, and no talk of heroes and fate would cure it.

The woman he loved lay dead. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else ever would.

_**You don't need to be the Starseer.**_

The Super Nova uttered that thought so plainly that it stopped all of Mike's spiraling grief.

"What?"

_**Zoda is dead. The Argonians are safe. **_The Super Nova reiterated. _**What need of a Starseer is there now?**_

In any good fairy tale, the hero does not kill the villainous sorcerer only to find his princess dead. The Super Nova, as driven and as committed to the Prophecy as it was, suddenly reminded Mike of a few other things. Things he had known before…but never connected. Had never thought of connecting.

He recalled how Dr. Jones had told him how Mica had fought to keep the Prophecy from coming true…by fighting her feelings, her love for him.

He remembered how long ago, when it was not the Argonians he had been trying to save from Zoda, but three 'magical' cubes…How the first had granted him the Super Nova, and the second, a tremendous boost in his vitality.

And lastly, he remembered that in all of this, he had never truly believed in the Prophecy, or that his life had been written out for him, and there was nothing that he, or anybody else could do to change it.

Numbly, the possibility ran in his brain. It was crazy. It was reckless. He probably couldn't even do it, for as much training as he lacked. He was just Mike Jones, a boy from Seattle who played baseball and had come here for vacation.

Yet baseball players didn't save alien races from an evil invader. He had. People from Seattle didn't visit the most rural of the island tropics. He had. And boys from Earth didn't fall in love with alien princesses.

He had.

Compared to all that…His idea wasn't crazy at all.

"You won't die." Mike said, still shaking, but no longer crying. He couldn't afford to now. He had to put everything he had, everything he was, every ounce of willpower and control into this. Miracles didn't happen everyday. Creating them…was something else. "You won't die. Not here. Not like this. Not because of him."

Ignoring the pain in his leg, the burn of his injured ribs, and the gashed cuts and bruises of his latest trial, Mike stood over Princess Seremichaela Argos' lifeless form, remembering the Prophecy.

_Years will pass. My efforts and sacrifice will become legend, and the people will lose hope. You will not recognize me when I return, for I will not be born of your people. You will know me by the weapon I wield, and the courage in my heart. You, Sellarus…Will be reborn as the daughter of your own line, and there, beyond what we know, we will find each other. We will find love. It will be a love adored by the stars…yet pitied. In the hour of darkness, at the hands of a new Devil from the stars, our love will bring death, and your candle will be extinguished once more._

"If I wasn't the Starseer…" Mike whispered to her, a tear dropping from his face and rolling down her cheek, "Then the Prophecy couldn't be true. And you wouldn't have to die. You could live."

He bent over her, shutting his eyes and preparing himself for what would come next.

_"Live."_

He lowered his face down, and his lips met hers. In a kiss, all his hopes and dreams went.

All the power he had gained…all his knowledge of Shilivre, all his strength, all his excess vitality…Went into that kiss.

Around him, around them, a white aura flared to life. Around them, like a fire surrounds fresh wood, it grew hungry and vibrant. Around them, the fire turned from white to green.

The Super Nova said nothing. It had said all it had needed to, and it had been there for as long as it needed to. When it sensed its master's strength ebbing away, and sensed its purpose was ended, it shone at his side, content and knowing.

Long ago, the blue stasis cube had given Mike incredible strength and vitality. He did not know by what process the cube had done so. Not then, not now.

But still, he duplicated it.

Mica's cold body grew warmer, her skin gained color, and her heart and blood began to pump once more. Her lungs flexed, forcing fresh air through her nose.

None of these things Mike noticed. To him, his eyes shut and crying as he put all into one desperate move, there was only a slow and growing frailty and weakness. A sense of fatigue made all the worse, as he realized he was sacrificing himself to save her.

He didn't care.

He drained his life into her. Everything that had been given to him, in the name of the Starseer, he gave to her. He gave everything he had…except for the darkness.

And the darkness was his alone.

* * *

_July 5__th__, 1990 A.D._

There should have been pain. Emptiness. A void without thought or emotion.

There was warmth. There was the gentle thrum of life. Yet there was no humming of that hidden, deeper power called Shilivre. He was blind to it, as blind as he had been long ago.

His breathing quickened, grew more shallow. Fighting against the burning of the light in his eyes, Mike opened them and glanced around. He lay in a familiar surrounding, and one he had never thought he would see again.

Still tired, but sitting in a fully healed body, Mike Jones found himself laid on the couch of his Uncle's living room…in his Uncle's laboratory. On Coralcola Island. Pillows were adjusted all around him, and a thick blanket covered him from the slight chill of the air-conditioned structure. Faint blue light, filtering in through the tinted windows, showed him a sight that lifted his heart beyond anybody's capacity to crush.

Kneeling at his side, fast asleep with her arms splayed over his blanket covered legs, a girl in a patterned red dress with deep red hair kept vigil.

He could sense no Shilivre. But Mike didn't need that strange and wondrous power to know that Princess Mica…_alive and well_…was kneeling at his bedside. He closed his eyes and leaned back into the pillows.

She was alive. Whatever he had done…whatever miracle had happened, she was alive. Zoda was dead. Mica was alive.

And they were home.

He rested there for a long few moments, taking in deep and contented breaths, his arms up behind his head. It was minutes before he felt Mica stir. He opened his eyes and looked down at her, smiling in that confident way he had almost forgotten.

She blinked her eyes for a long few moments, then glanced up at him in a mix of curiosity and sleep-given obliviousness.

"Hey." Mike said simply, unable to keep the grin in.

Mica transformed from a weary vigil keeper to an ecstatic angel in moments. "Mike!" She exclaimed, leaping on top of him and hugging him half to death. Despite the sudden weight resting on his chest, Mike chuckled and ran a hand through her hair.

"You don't know how good it feels…to hear you say my name." He said in a whisper, unable to stop a tear from coming out of the corner of his eye.

Mica kissed his forehead, crying as well. "I never thought I'd be alive to say it again." She uttered back.

Mike blinked a few times. "How…how long have I been here?"

Mica eased herself off of him and sat up, allowing him to do the same. "Dr. Jones and Ezilian were waiting in Sub-C…When you revived me, I managed to drag you out to them, and we sailed straight home. Baboo had gotten the radio working by then, so everyone was waiting when we got back. Four days ago."

Mica bit her lip and smiled at him, her mental state fragile. "We didn't think you would ever wake up." She uttered after a time. "You had suffered countless concussions before you fought Zoda. You were lost to us. Dead inside your mind. I couldn't sense you, or feel you."

Mike blinked a few times and looked down at his hand, flexing it.

The Shilivre was gone.

"I used it all up, didn't I?" He asked, looking up to Mica with a curious voice. "My power…Shilivre…" He pointed at her. "I didn't think it would work."

"You almost killed yourself trying to save me." Mica nodded, sniffling again. "It worked. By the stars, Michael, _it worked._"

Mike shut his eyes and drew her into another hug, kissing her fiercely. Her arms wrapped around him and she responded in turn, unwilling to break the bond. They had nearly lost each other.

Zoda was dead. Rellini-Uros was a memory once again. And Princess Mica was alive. Nothing else mattered.

Except for the slight fatigue Mike still had from being bedridden for half a week. Cringing, Mike pulled back and slumped against the couch, his exuberance winded. Mica's ears flattened against her head, worried. "What's wrong, Mike?"

"Nothing." He said after a yawn. "I'm…just really tired still."

A mischievous look filled her face and her ears twitched. "Oh, I think I can take care of that…" She lay herself over him and drew him in for another potent kiss that left him breathless. Mike's eyes closed, and for the first time in a long while, no longer had a worry or care. There was just Mica, sweet and mindblowing Mica, and the prophecy no longer mattered. He had shattered it.

She lived.

"A…HEM." Came a loud voice from the outside of the living room, clearing its throat with deliberate slowness. Mica and Mike broke their embrace and looked up to see Dr. Steve Jones leaning against the doorframe to the kitchen, half-smiling as he folded his arms and shook his head at them.

"Oh, Dr. Jones!" Mica said, blushing redly. Her ears went flat against her head again, a sign of clear embarrassment.

Dr. Jones calmly stepped out into the living room. "I trust I'm not interrupting anything?" He said easily. He couldn't keep a straight face for long, though. As Mike eased himself back up into a sitting position, and Mica chastely moved to the far end of the couch, Dr. Jones slapped his nephew on the back. "Damned if you didn't make a miracle happen again." He said smiling. "I'll never be able to figure out how you saved us. Twice now." He scratched at his head and sighed. "Maybe you really are the Starseer."

To that, Mike shook his head. "No, no I'm not." Mica threw him a glance, and the boy ran a hand through her hair, smiling in his own peculiar fashion. "Not anymore, at least."

Dr. Jones frowned. "What do you mean by that?"

"The Starseer can use Shilivre." Mike answered, still looking deep into Mica's face. "Right now, Princess Mica is probably thinking a dozen thoughts about how glad she is…how relieved she is things turned out the way they did…But I can't hear any of that." He looked down at his hand, flexing it. "No, I don't hear it anymore. I don't feel it." He was a little softer at that, missing it for that one brief moment.

Mica looked at him, dumbstruck. "But if you can't…Then how did you…"

Mike shook his head. "Dumb luck? A wild guess?" He sighed. "Anything but Shilivre." He looked to Dr. Jones. "Zoda…he's dead this time, right?"

The archaeologist adjusted his glasses. "All indications point to the idea that the one that appeared before us was the true Zoda. Not a 'clone' of him, which was what apparently troubled us the last time."

Mike was relieved. "Thank God." He muttered, shaking his head. "I don't think I could take him on now."

"Not without your Super Nova, no." His Uncle replied.

Mike looked at the archaeologist, not believing what he heard. "…What?" He said, lifting an eyebrow. "You left it behind?"

Mica bit her lip. "…Not exactly."

Dr. Jones left the room and came back with a wooden box. When he opened the lid, a powerful chained mace lay inside…

But it didn't gleam with the silver of the stars above.

Mike pulled it out, staring dully at it. "It's the Shooting Star mace I got from the Shecolans." He uttered after a moment. He looked up to Dr. Jones. "But this changed into the Super Nova when…"

"We know." Dr. Jones nodded solemnly. "As to why it changed back, though…"

It came to Mike as clear as anything else in his life ever had. "It changed back because it was no longer needed." He whispered, fingering the redforged chain. "Because there was no longer a Starseer to use it."

Mica looked at him, judging his comment for a long moment before squeezing his hand. "I thought you didn't believe in the Prophecy." She said to him, smiling.

Mike looked back at her and nodded, sharing her gaze. "I don't. I changed things…And I'm not the Starseer now. If I ever was to begin with."

She pulled in close to him and settled her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. "You could have fooled me."

Dr. Jones cleared his throat again, and the two looked up at him in minor irritation. "As much as I imagine you two would like to catch up on the last few days…I'm afraid the others want to see you as well. And besides, Mike…" At this, he gave his nephew a stern glare, "I promised your father I'd keep you on your best behavior. I doubt highly that wooing the leader from another planet qualifies under that."

Mike chuckled a bit from embarrassment and rubbed the back of his head. "Come on, Uncle Steve. I just saved Earth and what's left of Argonia from an evil alien. Don't I deserve some reward?"

Dr. Jones took note of the Princess sitting on his lap and rolled his eyes. "It seems to me you've reward enough for a lifetime of adventure." He took off his glasses and rubbed at them. "Mica, I'll give the two of you another three minutes. After that, you'll have to leave while 'Prince Charming' here gets ready to see everything he's missed in the last five days."

He gave the two one last look and shook his head as an afterthought, then departed.

Mike turned to Mica and gave her a small smile. "No rest for the weary, eh?" His expression turned serious when he began to think about the others. "The Argonians…how are they?"

"As good as can be expected. Even Ezilian's up and around, thanks to my healing powers." Mica explained gently. "But…Bana…"

Mike's head dropped. "Yeah. I didn't think there was anything you could do for her."

"No." Mica said. "I can heal wounds. But I can't bring people back from the dead." She looked up and stared him straight in the face, love mixing with adoration and awe. "Not like you."

Mike flexed his hand. He definitely felt weaker. Stronger than he had been when he first arrived at Coralcola, sure…but weaker than he had been when he returned to Coralcola's shores the last time. "I don't know how I did that." He finally admitted. He held up the 'Shooting Star' Morningstar mace and stared at it. "In the end, Mica…what the truth was, what I believed…was kind of iffy. But the one thing I never stopped believing was that I had to stop Zoda. And save you. And I'd do whatever it took to do both." The Shooting Star kept silent.

There was nothing magical in it now. It was as it had been back before Mike had touched the first stasis cube; a fine weapon, worked from metal by the hands of the amazon warriors of Shecola. Its silence was saddening. He put it aside and looked at her, his hands gripping her shoulders.

"The Prophecy…it said you had to die. But I saved you." He grinned at that. "Mica, don't you get it? I _changed_ things. The Prophecy? It's wrong! Look! The Super Nova regressed! You're alive! Zoda is dead!" His hands squeezed her gently. "Don't you know what that means?"

Despite herself, Mica bit her lip. "I do." She admitted, on the verge of crying again. "It means that for the first time since Zoda was banished from Argonia…My life, my hopes, are mine again."

She held him close, burying her face into his shoulder. "So stay by me. Because any life I live…I want you to be in it."

Mike held her close, nodding slowly. "I'm not going anywhere." He said softly, comforting her. "I'm right here."

They all were. And that was good.

* * *

_Coralcola Island_

_July 5__th__, 1990 A.D._

_10:45 A.M._

The first two people they met on their trip out happened to be Giskard Rorth and the native boy Baboo, who were sitting outside of the good Doctor's laboratory and quietly conversing. When Mike stepped out of the front door, Giskard offered them a small smile, a rarity from the grouchiest Argonian. Baboo drew Mike into a bonecrushing hug, laughing all the while.

"By the Southern Cross, Mike, you rascal!" Baboo beamed, releasing his captive. "It is good to see you up and around again!"

Mike punched Baboo in the arm. "Of course I am!" He boasted. "Nothing can keep me down forever!"

Baboo shook his head. "Some of my people didn't believe you would come back alive. It's a miracle, for you were delivered by the stars."

Mike shrugged. "Yeah, well. Why don't you run on ahead and let everyone know I'm coming?"

"I'll have them prepare the fish specially in your honor!" Baboo chuffed. "The Chief would have it no differently."

Mica ran a hand through her hair, noticing the almost casual bounce of his head that Giskard motioned to her. "I'm going to go on ahead too, Mike." She said, catching the meaning of the only Argonian who did not have Shilivre. "We'll be waiting for you."

Before Mike could pose a question as to why, she dashed off with Baboo hot on her heels. The brown haired boy scratched at his head. "Now why was she in such a hurry?"

"Because I asked her to leave me alone with you for a while." Giskard Rorth answered, putting a hand into his pants pocket. Mike turned around and looked at him.

"Why?" Mike inquired. Giskard shrugged to the query.

"You're going to be a very busy…and a very popular…man over the next few days, Mike. And what I have to say to you, I wanted to do in private."

Mike turned to look at the usually morose Argonian. "What's on your mind?"

Giskard watched a laughing Mica vanish in the distance of the shoreline. "You know, Mike…until you came along, I didn't think I'd ever see Mica smile again." The boy glanced back at the Seattle native. "Even when we lived on Argonia, Mica had very little joy in her heart. She was a slave to her title…and even worse, as we recently discovered, slave to that damnable Prophecy. Her entire life had been planned for her. She would marry Ezilian. The line would continue. And then when Zoda came, she lost all that, and the fear of the Prophecy was driven into her. She lost everything…and you saved us. You saved her. She didn't really smile all that often before the fall of Argonia…but as I pondered and thought of how grief-stricken she had been over the 20 years we were in those stasis cubes, I thought her smile would be just a memory." Giskard smiled at Mike. "And then…she met you. Grief and all, you gave her joy when all she had was sadness and visions. Now you've freed her from the last vestiges of her planned future. There is no Prophecy, no arranged marriage. Even while we weep for Argonia…she is free, Mike. And you have taught her to smile again."

Mike blushed and scratched at the back of his head. "She's something else, all right."

"You care for her? You love her?"

"More than anything." Mike said without hesitation. That surprised him for a moment, but he realized he spoke the truth. He had risked his life for her, thrown everything away to save her.

More and more, she was his life.

"Good." Giskard said softly, pulling his hand out of his pocket. He poked at Mike's chest. "Because if I ever find out that you've been mistreating her, I'll come for your head."

Mike blinked at that for a few moments, caught off balance. "Why? To defend her honor?"

"Because I never want to see her heart broken again." Giskard answered quietly. "My own couldn't take it."

A realization hit Mike. "You love her too."

The knowledgeable youth shut his eyes and nodded his head. "Like a blind man worships a Goddess he cannot see. Fruitlessly." Giskard opened his eyes and smiled again, small but powerful. "Now get going. Ezilian's been asking about you, and you might as well pay him a visit."

"I'd be lying if I said I was looking forward to that." Mike complained.

"A lot has changed while you were sleeping." Giskard answered, assuaging his fears. "Including Ezilian." He nodded for Mike to depart and turned about, trotting off towards the house and Dr. Jones. Smiling, Mike turned and ran after Mica and Baboo.

Giskard paused at the door to the laboratory and watched Mike enter the treeline of the woods between the northern part of the island and Coralcola village. "You've saved us all, Mike." Giskard answered softly. "Starseer or not…you saved us all."

* * *

_Ezilian Ranuforte's Hut_

_11:12 A.M._

Ezilian was still recuperating in his bed, regardless of Mica's miracle healing when Mike Jones knocked on the door and poked his head inside. Surprised, Amethyst and Rozlyn glanced towards the door, and Ezilian lifted his head up.

"Is Ezilian awake?" Mike asked cautiously.

"I'm recovering, not dead." Ezilian said gruffly. Rozlyn giggled at the joke she could barely understand, and Amethyst took her hand.

"Rozlyn, why don't we go outside and see how lunch is coming?"

"All right." Rozlyn agreed. "But afterwards, I wanna get back to work on that quilt…"

Amethyst glanced back to Ezilian. "Is there anything else you need before we…"

The older boy waved his hand at her. "I'm fine, Amethyst. I just want to talk with Mike for a while." Amethyst blinked a few times at Mike, but nodded and left, taking her younger sister with her.

Mike walked into the room and looked at the bedridden Argonian. "You still look like Hell."

Ezilian chuffed. "Thanks for the compliment. You look pretty ugly yourself."

"What did Rozlyn mean about the quilt?" Mike asked. Ezilian blinked a few times and rotated his thumbs.

"Back before Zoda…showed up…Rozlyn had been spending a lot of time with Bana Omoy. Apparently, one of the big lessons the shaman tried to impress on the youngest of our number…was the virtue of patience and hard work leading to grand accomplishment. In memory of, or maybe for guilt of the old witch doctor's demise, Rozlyn has faithfully spent almost an hour every day sewing that quilt together. It doesn't look like much…but a lot of feeling has gone into it."

"I see." Mike answered softly. He motioned to Ezilian. "So how much longer until you can get up?"

"My injuries were extensive…Mica can only do so much. Time is having to heal the rest." Ezilian grimaced. "The shortness of breath…is the worst. So. Did you come in here to poke fun at me?"

"No." Mike said simply. "I kept my promise. I brought Mica back alive."

"You did." Ezilian agreed slowly. "You did."

Mike pulled up a chair and sat beside the older boy's bed. "Did you think that I'd fail?"

"The betting odds were on you…Common sense was against you." Ezilian exhaled. He gave Mike a look. "All the same…thank you."

"You're welcome." Mike said, amazed the two had approached even that much of a common courtesy. "It wasn't easy."

"Being the hero never is." Ezilian agreed hoarsely. "But somehow, you keep doing it."

"You still hate me, don't you?"

"I don't hate you, Mike. Not anymore." Ezilian said, pointing a finger. "I sure as Hell…don't have to like you…but I don't hate you. And as to how Mica looks at you, your feelings for her…That isn't my concern anymore." The eldest Argonian let off a cocksure smile. "She dumped me."

Mike remembered how well Amethyst had been taking care of him. "Amethyst…you love her, don't you?"

"I do." Ezilian said easily. "But now I can love her honestly, without having to hide it."

"So all that time…Mica was just a way to power for you?"

"The King of Argonia carries tremendous strength in Shilivre…and command." Ezilian Ranuforte agreed. He shut his eyes for a moment and shook his head. "But…Seeing Zoda here…I got it all wrong."

Ezilian opened his eyes and stared up at Mike. "I was being corrupted…by my desire for power. Just like Zoda was." Mike lifted an eyebrow and the boy waved off the question. "I know now he was Zodus…the exiled adviser. Mica told me." Ezilian let his head drop back and stared at the ceiling. "He lost himself. Everything he was…Just because he was driven to acquire power at any cost. He let himself be corrupted by the dark space between the stars. But I can't. I'll never approach that barrier. Desiring power can only lead to madness." Ezilian smirked. "But…you knew that, didn't you?"

Mike nodded.

"We never did figure out if you were the Starseer or not." Ezilian concluded thoughtfully.

"Maybe I was. Maybe I wasn't." Mike retorted. "In either case, I'm not the Starseer now. And I never wanted to be."

Ezilian shook his head. "You're a weird one, Michael Jones."

"Not half as weird as you, you elf." Mike replied with a smile. Ezilian closed his eyes, smiling back.

"I've said what I needed to. So get out of here and let me finish recovering."

Mike nodded. "Ezilian?"

"Hmm?"

"Are we cool?"

The question was so simple, Ezilian couldn't help but chuckle.

"Yes…I suppose we are 'cool', if I'm understanding your meaning. I'm not going to beat the living piss out of you anymore."

Mike rolled his eyes at the ceiling and headed out the door, still smiling. Things had turned out well…even the pompous Ezilian had learned a few lessons while licking his wounds.

As for Ezilian, he felt his headache coming back, probably from being too honestly cheerful for too long. He pulled the covers over himself a little tighter and let his eyes fall shut.

Sleep didn't come long after.

* * *

_The grave of Bana Omoy_

_2:47 P.M._

It was a quiet afternoon, with the sun warm enough to make Hapo Omoy's skin glow, yet not so harsh it would burn him. Bana had loved afternoons like this one when she was a little girl. Even when she had ascended, like all other women of their line, to the shamanhood, she had never completely forgotten the joys of a calm afternoon in the blessed islands of the Southern Cross. By the stars of the night sky, she had received her guidance and wisdom. But it was always the afternoon sun that left her at peace with the world.

"They live, sister." Hapo said quietly, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his frayed shorts. "You knew all along that they would live. It was your own doom that you had predicted all along."

_I won't be around forever, brother._ She had said that to him, long ago. Back then, as she grumbled about his weight, Hapo had thought it nothing but complaining. Only now, when time had revealed what the stars of the Southern Cross had foretold, did he recognize the sadder and hidden meaning in it.

"The islands have calmed down. The defeat of Zoda has put the spirits of the monsters below back to rest. The Argonians are safe, and Mike has finally broken from his own dreamless sleep."

The wooden gravestone at the head of the piled dirt mound said nothing. Hapo smiled and shook his head. "There were days I never could understand you."

He pulled a vegetable stalk out from his back pocket. "I'm holding to my diet more nowadays. It's slow going, but…Every bit helps. I'll have to watch out for myself now that you're gone." He thought about something else and winced. "I suppose I have to get married and have some kids now, eh? Just so we can have another shaman someday."

There was more he could have said, if he had bothered to ramble. But Hapo Omoy was a simple creature, with a simple outlook. He'd inherited that flaw the same as Bana, but in a different capacity. She had said very little and it meant worlds. He said very little…and it was just very little.

There would be other days. Hapo bowed his head in respect one last time and turned about, heading back towards the village. The vegetable stalk lifted up to his mouth and he began to chew on it, wincing all the while. "Something this bad has to be good for me." The island chief grumbled to himself.

The storm had passed; Coralcola was safe. Bana had died, but her spirit lived on in Hapo, in Rozlyn, and in all the others whose lives she had touched. It hadn't been a meaningless death, either, Hapo reminded himself.

She had helped two young people to find love. And in their traditions, there was no higher honor than helping to create love. For that was a celebration of life. And of the true message of the stars.

* * *

_Coralcola Helipad (Southeastern tip)_

_2:58 P.M._

The noise of an approaching helicopter, the only rapid means of transport to and from the remote island of Coralcola, was an unusual one that prompted all manner of curious onlookers and adventure seekers. Usually, it was some manner of a package for Doctor Jones out of Hawaii, whether it was equipment or a few crates of the instant noodles he seemed to enjoy to excess. A little less than two weeks ago, it had come bearing the necessary parts for his electron microscope, the oddest piece of equipment in his entire laboratory.

Dr. Jones charged up the hill, smiling to himself. A lot had happened in those two weeks. The bulk of the mysteries surrounding the Argonians had been answered, and a few more had been created. Mike and Princess Mica had gone from being barely able to say two words to each other to being, for all purposes, deeply in love. And Zoda, not a clone, but the one true lost son had come and died in a failed scheme to usurp the last of the Starseer's forgotten strength.

All the same, he could use some more instant noodles.

The main rotor's noise began to quiet as the bright red helicopter settled down on the brightly white painted helipad. Ducking underneath the still spinning and all too dangerous blades, the portly archaeologist headed for the door. Amazingly enough, the rotors quieted faster than usual, as if the noise of their spinning had somehow been cancelled.

"Huh." Dr. Jones murmured, a little surprised. Modern marvels at work, indeed.

The side door slid open and a frail looking elderly man in a brown jumpsuit slid out, a package at his side, and with several larger cases waiting inside the helicopter. Dr. Jones walked over to him and nodded.

"Dr. Jones, I presume?" The old man asked, a twinkle in his eye. What really caught Dr. Jones' attention was his long and flowing white beard, which seemed to reach to his waist, and likely could have gone beyond it. The whiskers were well maintained and trimmed precisely, and the courier seemed for all the world like some archaic magician out of a storybook.

"That's me." Dr. Jones nodded in reply. "I don't recall ever seeing you out here before, though. Are you new?"

"This is my first flight." The old man answered, glancing around with a curious smile.

"Not used to helicopters?"

"Not ones like this, no." The old man agreed easily. "This one's definitely more stable than the contraptions they had back in the day."

"Aah, the autogyros." Dr. Jones assumed, lifting his glasses up a little higher on his nose. The old man didn't break his smile.

"Something like that." He jerked a thumb behind him. "You've got a few cases of goods here that you'll need some help unloading." Dr. Jones took the cue and motioned to some of the islanders who were standing nearby. Used to the procedure, they charged towards the helicopter and began to unload the supplies.

The old man in the brown jumpsuit hefted the package under his arm as they moved out of the way of the bustling islanders. "This one's special delivery, though. I had to deliver this by hand."

"Oh?" Dr. Jones asked, lifting an eyebrow. "What's so special about it?"

The old man with the long white beard handed the wrapped package over, but held it firmly until Dr. Jones waited.

"My instructions were to deliver this particular parcel to a Dr. Stephen Jones, archaeologist, to this island on this precise day." The old man cautioned him. "But you're not supposed to open it until I take off and leave."

Dr. Jones frowned. "Those are some odd directions."

"Those were the ones left to us." The old man said cryptically. "But, so it is." He released his hold on the package and took a step back, nodding politely. "Well, Dr. Jones, I'll leave it in your hands. I think you'll be able to figure out what to do with it."

"Wait a minute." Dr. Jones exclaimed suddenly. The old man paused and looked at him. "I never got your name, sir." The archaeologist inferred.

The old man stroked at his long beard for a moment, the twinkle in his eye all too grand. "My friends call me Mer."

"Short for Mervin?"

The old man just let his eyes twinkle. "Something like that." He extended his hand out. "It's been a pleasure meeting you, Dr. Jones. It gives me something to retire on a high note with."

"I didn't know I was that famous." The archaeologist joked. The old man laughed.

"Why, my good doctor…you're more famous than you know, in some circles." He nodded one last time to Dr. Jones and walked back to the helicopter.

It didn't take long for the natives to unload the supplies and push them out of the way. Dr. Jones couldn't help but stare at the old man in the rear compartment of the airplane, who watched him with that same odd and knowing smile as the helicopter took off and left.

Only then did the archaeologist, still feeling the old man Mer's eyes on him from far above, open the package. Inside the tightly packed manila envelope and surrounded by foam was a single book with reddish brown binding, and golden yellow lettering.

Dr. Jones blinked at the title. "What's this now? The Oxford Wonder World book of History?" Frowning, he thumbed through a few of the pages midbook. "Odd." He muttered, as he flipped open to a page on Leonardo Da Vinci. Later on, there was even an entry about Sherlock Holmes and Victorian England. "REALLY strange." He grumbled again. "Some history book, they list literary characters as actual people." He closed the book and turned back towards his lab, the islanders with his instant noodles and other supplies following close behind.

Occupied as he was by other matters, and the rest of the curious cipher yet untranslated from the escape ship crashed in Rellini-Uros, it would be some time before Dr. Jones would thumb completely through the book and discover the cryptic ancient Argonian text in the front few pages.

But that was for another day.

High above and miles beyond, the old man in the helicopter watched Coralcola become a speck on the horizon, and then vanish completely. The pilot turned his head back to the old man who had been assigned to the flight just before takeoff. "So, what exactly was in that little package of yours?"

"A very confusing book." The old man known as 'Mer' answered just loud enough to be heard over the roar of the engines. "One which will take some effort for him to truly understand."

"Sounds like it may take some time!" The pilot answered with a chuckle.

The old man lay back in his padded seat and shut his eyes, still smiling that same odd smile.

"Once they translate that book…they'll have all the time in the world." Exhaling loudly, the old man began to mentally prepare himself for the harrowing journey he would undertake once they landed in Hawaii.

_Well, my old friend…I've done what you asked. It's in their hands now._

* * *

_The Northern Shore_

_10:16 P.M._

It seemed like forever since they had been able to go up to the north shore of Coralcola Island. The same forgotten log of driftwood hadn't moved in the slightest, and it sat there as patiently as ever. The warmth of the day had long since gone, and the stars glistened high above, praising its children below. Nestled in a thick blanket stolen from Dr. Jones' laboratory, the Princess of Argonia and her hero sat holding each other close and staring up to the stars. No longer with fear.

Never again.

"I remember the first time I saw you out here." Mike said softly. The girl beside him smiled and glanced over to him.

"Oh? Do you now?"

"Yeah." Mike replied. "It was the first night after I got back to Coralcola, and my Uncle Steve unlocked the cubes. You were dressed in your royal stuff, and you were just staring out to the waves. You just had the saddest look on your face. And I thought to myself, 'I'll do everything I can to make her smile'."

The Princess blushed a bit and her ears flattened against the sides of her head. "You can say the most flattering lies some days."

"Some days?" Mike asked, lifting an eyebrow. Mica couldn't help herself, and giggled at the joke.

He held her closer, feeling her shiver in the night cold. "We should get you inside. You're starting to get chilly." He muttered, rubbing her bare shoulders to keep her warm.

"In a while." Mica said. "For now, I'm just enjoying the moment." Truth be told, she was cold. Her red island dress given to her by Bana long ago didn't offer much in the way of protection against the night chill, for as pretty as it looked. That didn't stop her from reveling in the moment.

"So what happens now?" Mike asked, leaning against the rotting log.

"Hmm? What do you mean?"

"I faced my nightmares. And I destroyed yours." Mike said slowly. "I don't think we'll be seeing many more early mornings out here, just talking and staring at the stars."

"That doesn't mean we can't come out here at night." Mica smiled. "I enjoy our visits to this beach. It's a quiet place, Michael. A place that is ours, and ours alone."

"Now who's being a flatterer?" He asked, pulling her closer. She tilted her head up and kissed him for a long moment, his hand meeting hers in the air as their fingers danced and tangled.

He pulled away and exhaled loudly, stunned. "Wow."

The Princess pulled away demurely and leaned back against the log, her calm and contented eyes staring up to the stars above.

"Life goes on." She said softly, the wind playing in her deep red hair. "We live. All thanks to you." She frowned, a horrible thought coming to her. "Wait. Mike…didn't you say this was a vacation for you?"

The Seattle native nodded. "I don't live here. I came here to spend the summer with my Uncle Steve."

The girl looked crestfallen. "And that means…at some point, you'll leave us. You'll have to. To go back home."

Mike's hand reached to her shoulder, squeezing it gently. "Yes." He whispered. "When the summer ends…I'll have to leave for home." He picked himself up and looked down at her, a sad smile on his face. "But that's not for some time yet. Not until after my birthday. We still have the rest of the summer ahead of us, Mica."

"Just the summer." She whispered. "Is that it, then?"

"No." Mike answered, reaching for and squeezing her hand. "I'll come back. Somehow, some way, I'll come back. I promise."

The Princess said nothing for a while, choosing to rest her head against Mike's chest and think back on all she had once known, and all she had been freed from.

"Marlin's been practicing his pitching. He's looking forward to another game soon." Mica said after her pause. Mike kissed her forehead and held her close.

"We all are."

Mica closed her eyes and tightened her hold on him. "Don't leave me." She whispered, blinking out a tear. "Just let me stay here. Let me hold onto this memory, this place…this endless tropical night."

"I'm not going anywhere." Mike answered back, closing his eyes.

Mica held in her hardest tears, comforted by the beating sound of his heart next to her sensitive ear.

_I'll love you forever._

Mica opened her eyes, but didn't look up. No, Mike hadn't said that. The voice was older, more mature, almost wiser.

But somehow, it was Mike. Smiling to herself, Mica thought of the Prophecy again, and let it drop from active conversation.

Mike sensed the stirring in her. "Is something wrong?" He asked her, leaning her up and off of him. Mica blinked a few times, sensing something in him that he himself was now blind to.

After a few moments, she smiled and shook her head. "Nothing's wrong. Everything's right."

"It looked like you heard something."

_The voice of a long-ago lover, returned to his lady._

"The peace of two hearts…which have finally found each other." She answered, resting a hand over his chest. She smiled at him again, in that soft and gentle way she had. Mike smiled back and said little else.

In an hour, they would grow tired of watching the stars and whispering sweet nothings, and Mike would return to his Uncle's laboratory, and Mica to the cabin of the late Bana Omoy.

But for the moment, they remained on the beach, linked deeply. By time's own flow, soulmates, some would argue.

The future could wait until tomorrow.

The night was theirs.

And the stars were with them.


	8. Endless Tropical Night

_**STARTROPICS: FOLLOW THE SOUTHERN CROSS**_

By Eric 'Erico' Lawson

**CHAPTER SEVEN: ENDLESS TROPICAL NIGHT**

"_You're a bright lad, but you have it all wrong. They call me a hero…a savior. And long after I'm gone, and after even your name has faded from memory, that is going to stay. No, we can't accept that sometimes extraordinary tragedy wields extraordinary heroes. We need a myth, a legend. And now you're here, and you're the tip of the iceberg. So even though it won't change the course of events…Let me tell you the truth._

_People think that the hardest thing I ever did was stopping the Star Devils and saving Sellarus and her people. No. That was difficult, but it wasn't the hardest thing. Try cutting your heart out, and throwing it away. You can't? You say that's impossible? No, it's not impossible. It's the hardest thing you can ever do._

_That's what I did…when I realized that the people I had saved, the woman I LOVED…_

_Had to be left behind. That I had to leave them and live out my life in solitude. _

_The Starseer died that day, boy. All that's left is a sad and lonely ghost, looking up at the stars for answers. So go ahead and gush in the Legend of the Starseer._

_Maybe it's fitting they'd give me a posthumous happily ever after."_

A tired hermit to a young Argonian explorer, some time after the Star Devil's defeat

* * *

**Coralcola Island**

In a little more than a month, I had come to the islands of the Southern Cross, gone on a great adventure, and saved an alien race from extinction at the hands of a butcher. And after I'd done all that…I got to turn around and save them again. And come to grips with who I was.

But, most importantly, I found Mica. That made everything else, all the pain and struggling worth it. And having Zoda dead…permanently, his original rotting in the once again dormant ruins of Howduyadocola…Rellini-Uros…No more nightmares. An end to the suffering.

We had our wounds to heal. Bana's death still hung over the island, and she would be mourned for months to come. Mica had been the closest to her of the children, her and little Rozlyn. But Mica just smiled, knowing something she didn't feel like telling the rest of us, and shook her head. She would not mourn for Bana like the others. The shaman was with the stars, Princess Mica told me once. There was great joy in that.

As for the Argonians…Despite their worries that the revealing of their curious powers, Shilivre, would cause them to be shunned, they were still welcomed with open arms. Knowing that Zoda…the Zoda they had known…was finally and truly dead, did wonders for them as well.

Giskard…You know, when I first saw him, I didn't think the boy ever knew how to smile. No, he could smile, I found out. He could smile a lot when the weight of the world wasn't on his shoulders. And of course, he still worked and studied with Uncle Steve.

Rozlyn…Not a day after I was back, I found her in Bana's old hut (Which had become Mica's by default) diligently weaving a blanket. She was just hung up on the idea that she had to finish it. Something Bana had told her once, I guessed. As the youngest of the Argonians, she strangely recovered from the trauma of all the events with little trouble. But she had decided to be strong, she told me once in that voice kids use when they want to sound serious. Strong like Bana.

Bakusian…Well, not much changed in his life. He played with us. He continued to learn how to cook. Nothing ever seemed to bother Bakusian…and the rest of the summer was good for him.

Amethyst and Ezilian? Well, they became a serious item not long after that. Amethyst was a good experience for the hothead. She calmed him down, controlled him when his temper might have gotten the best of him. And Ezilian and I started to get along, too. Or at least, we reached a point where he didn't want to pound my face in. We never did stop competing, though. Baseball, fishing, and even Frisbee…Everything was an attempt to have him try to be better than me. He failed, most times. There was only one thing that he was better at than me. Using Shilivre. No, whatever 'talent' I had for it went with the unknown power I had used to bring Mica back to life. It wasn't like I had grown dependent on it…But there were some nights I wished I had it back.

If only to listen to Mica like she could me.

Now, you're asking yourself, what about Marlin? Heh, that guy always did take after me. Despite his crippled right hand, he found that he really was ambidextrous. Just like I had guessed. It didn't wreck his game at all, amazingly enough. In fact, he's only gotten better. His jokes were as lousy as ever, though. That I couldn't change. Like the rest of the Argonians, Marlin finally began to feel like he could call Coralcola his home. There was nothing chasing them. And Argonia and their past was behind them. They had a future in front of them. And thanks to the islanders and the discretion of my Uncle Steve…

It was a future that they could spend without the government finding out about their true origins and using them as lab specimens.

And Mica. Of all the Argonians, she changed the most after Zoda's second coming. The Prophecy had hung over her like a set of chains, ruling her life. With Zoda dead, her world was suddenly bright and full of promise. She and her people may have been all that was left of Argonia, but on Coralcola, they had finally moved on. Then again, they'd had twenty years inside of those stasis cubes to ponder about the fall of their world. Every day, she grew more hopeful. Every day, Mica became more beautiful than the one before, happier, full of laughter. I didn't know what it meant to live without hope like she had. But living with promise, knowing that the future wasn't written in stone…That I knew. That, I was glad to share.

The rest of the summer…Fishing and baseball were two of the highlights. And for the record, I still hate bananas. It was truly a vacation then. We had my birthday in late July (A day late, but you could hardly tell the difference by how they celebrated) and I turned 16 at last. It was a bit of a sad day as well, though. Every day we spent enjoying life on Coralcola was another day closer to when I'd have to leave and go back to Seattle for school. Neither Mica nor myself wanted that day to come, as much as we knew it would. But most days, that didn't matter. We kept on living, went on picnics, took long walks at night, and snuck kisses behind the Chief's hut. As if we could force the day not to come by not dwelling on it, that was how we lived.

You would think that that would wrap up the strange little tale of my adventure-filled life, right? That I had saved the day twice over, I'd saved the Princess who had fallen in love with me, and the world moved on in prosperity. If that had been the way of it, life would have been dull indeed.

The ruins of Howduyadocola, the beginning and end of all our problems, had been resolved. Uncle Steve, through Zoda and Giskard had finally learned all of its secrets…of a place called Rellini-Uros, home to the ancestors of the modern Polynesians who lived in the islands of the Southern Cross, and the place where the Argonian Starseekers had come. Zoda had been born at Rellini-Uros, the half-breed son of an Argonian mother and a human father. Under his then name of Zodus, he had grown up with very little Shilivre, but he compensated for intelligence and shrewd dealings. His wisdom led King Hirocon, who had somehow managed to travel the distance over time and space from modern Argonia to ancient Earth, to come back and enlist him as his advisor. Zodus became obsessed with the power of Shilivre, and sought to gain it by draining it from the strongest daughter of Sellarus, Mica's mother. When the plot failed, he was exiled and Rellini-Uros was abandoned and forgotten as punishment.

Rellini-Uros grew old and ancient…and forgotten. The inhabitants of the Argonian colony spread out through the islands of the Southern Cross, Argonian and human alike, and began new lives. Over the thousands of years that passed, they forgot their true origins, except through the oldest legends passed down only through the shamans of the islands…The shamans like Bana. They kept the stories alive, and using the strength that their alien ancestors had granted them, kept watch and waited.

Zodus, now Zoda, would return to Argonia after his exile, in command of a space pirate armada. He once again tried to take the power of Shilivre for himself…and as an added bonus, sought to destroy Argonia entirely. He succeeded in the second, but King Hirocon, acting quickly, saved Princess Mica and the other noble children from doom by sending them to Earth.

And that's when Uncle Steve…and I…came into the picture.

It was full circle. All questions had been answered, all mysteries cleared up. And then my Uncle went and found one more. He had had a book delivered to him by a mysterious stranger during one of his cargo helicopter drops from Hawaii…a book called the Oxford Wonder World, which looked at different periods of human history. He'd shrugged it off for a few days before he finally worked up the effort to take a closer look at it.

Everything in the book seemed to make sense, outside of the bizarre references to Sherlock Holmes and Camelot. Seemed to, or enough that Uncle Steve almost ignored it.

But he couldn't ignore what was handwritten in pen on the inside cover of the book. Ancient Argonian script, the same kind that Giskard was slowly teaching him to read.

The same kind that had been engraved on the side of the Argonian escape pod when it fell to Earth.

_The fallen traveler waits in time._ That was what Giskard and Uncle Steve were able to get from the book immediately. After that was more garbled, encoded gibberish, which would take them a lot longer to do. Sadly, they didn't have an entire summer.

It was August 10th when Uncle Steve and Giskard uncovered that line. And the helicopter which would take me back to Seattle…Came on the 12th.

My birthday had come and gone. I was 16 years old.

Leaving Coralcola was like waking up from a dream…A dream I never wanted to leave.

* * *

_August 12__th__, 1990 A.D. _

_Coralcola Island Helipad_

_10:04 A.M._

Dr. Jones carried with him two briefcases of notes and information; everything he had on ancient Argonian script, a culmination of the work that he and Giskard Rorth had been putting together. Beyond that, and the curious Oxford Wonder World, there was little at his laboratory at Coralcola he needed.

The helicopter was quiet, the blades spinning at the lowest possible speed. It was noisy enough, though, that the pilot had to shout for the archaeologist to hear him correctly.

"I thought I was taking two people back!" The pilot said, helping Dr. Jones load his briefcases on board. The tired researcher absentmindedly stroked what little hair he had left and smiled.

"You are!" He replied, not having to shout as loudly. Even with his headphone-equipped earmuffs, the pilot nodded, understanding him entirely.

"Well, he'd better get here soon. My flight window is only good for another fifteen minutes, and then I have to go!"

Dr. Jones nodded. "He'll be here." He answered, a little subdued as he spoke those words. He glanced beyond the ring of wellwishers, villagers and Argonians…or really, just villagers now…Towards Coralcola Village.

He closed his eyes, letting out a silent sigh. _He'll be here, because he has to be. But he has to say goodbye first._

They sat inside of the hut of the late Bana Omoy, the residence Princess Seremichaela Argos had been allowed to stay in. They did nothing, and said even less. The only thing Mica found herself able to do was to lean against his shoulder, trying to remember the smell of him, and the way his strong arms wrapped around her arms and waist, holding her close. It hurt to talk, because every time she tried, the only thought that came to mind was always _I don't want you to leave._

Michael stared up at the ceiling, knowing that he had to go. He'd heard the helicopter coming in, and his bags sat packed at the door. His baseball bat, what few baseballs he had left after his adventure, and his glove were all stored away. "Will you be all right?" He asked, looking at her with eyes that knew her sadness.

Mica sniffed away the last of her tears and offered him one of her stubborn smiles. "Compared to losing your entire world, it's not so bad. After all, I know you'll still be alive, in your Seattle." She sat up a little straighter. "Besides, I have to be strong. For the others, you know?"

Mike smiled back, more genuinely than her grin. "But you don't need to worry about them now, Mica. You don't have to be their leader anymore. All you have to do is be their friend."

She laughed a little at that. "I…I suppose you're right." She admitted wearily. Silence came over them again, both painfully aware that the time for their separation was drawing near. It destroyed so many questions she might have had for him, so many of the little joking comments he would leave her with.

"I won't be gone forever, you know." Mike said, quiet. "School only goes for about nine months. Once May comes around…I'll be on the first flight back to Coralcola." It was a hopeful promise, and one he hoped wasn't an empty one. It all relied on his Uncle, really…how willing to compromise the man was.

Mica bit her lip. "But that's almost a year. What if you…" He looked at her, his dazzling blue eyes catching the fire in hers, wondering, and the word died in her throat. She turned away from him, ashamed and worried. "What if you forget me?" She whispered, trying so hard not to cry.

Mike drew her into a hug, pressing her against him and letting her rest her head on his shoulder as she let out those few precious tears. "I could never forget you." He answered, voice rough and choked up. He meant it, and she knew it. "Not in ten thousand years."

"Not even in a million?" She asked, her mind flashing back to the legend of the Starseer, and the Prophecy which had been proven so right.

"Not even then." He swore, stroking at her hair. "It doesn't matter what I do, or where I go…I'll always remember you, Mica. And I'll always come back here to find you."

Mica closed her eyes, and thought the sentence she dared not speak.

_And I'll be waiting for you here…me, and the love you've awakened._

Mike froze, pulled away. His eyes were puzzled, staring at her in befuddled wonder. "Did you just…say something?" He fumbled over the words, because it had sounded like her voice, but…it had been different.

Stunned, Mica shook her head. "No, I just…" Realization caused her eyes to go wide in wonder. "I…Just thought it…"

Mike blinked as he absorbed that, disbelieving. "But I…I don't have Shilivre anymore, so how could you…"

Mica nearly laughed at that, stunned. "I don't know." She finally said, a sudden radiance filling her. "I don't know how, but you can still hear me, and…"

_If you can hear me, then…_

_**"You can hear me."**_ Mike uttered. But he did more than speak it. The message reverberated in her own thoughts as well, and she could have cried for it.

She drew him into another fierce hug. "Now you can't forget me." She whispered with determined pride. "Because now I can always talk to you."

Mike let out a chuckle and hugged her back, releasing her and getting up. "Just don't call too often, hmm?" He asked gently. "It would be pretty bogus if you tried to get my attention in the middle of a test."

She laughed at that, too. There had been a moment that Mike had wondered if she would truly be all right, here on Coralcola with only the islanders and the other Argonians…If, without him, she would be all right.

But as he looked down at her, radiant and just as beautiful as the first day he had met her, but only more so now, he smiled and gave a nod of his head. She would be better than all right. And so would he.

"Go." She nodded, the look in her eyes saying everything else as their telepathic connection closed. "You don't want to miss your ride home."

Mike smiled and nodded, picking up his bags at the door and giving her one last look before turning and leaving. Out of Mica's hut. Out of Coralcola village. He waved to Rozlyn and Bakusian and Marlin and Giskard and Amethyst, all huddled together and admiring Rozlyn's still half-finished quilt. They smiled and waved back, with shouts telling him to come back soon, and to 'hit 'em out of the park!', as Marlin had learned from Mike's lexicon.

Halfway to the helipad, Mike was met with the only Argonian he had not seen before. Ezilian glanced at him, leaning against a palm tree with his arms folded.

The two young men looked at each other, Mike with his open stare and Ezilian with an inquisitive cunning, tempered by their experience and the slow progression away from venomous wrath that had once been.

"So, I guess this is it then." Ezilian said calmly, looking at his younger rival.

Mike nodded. "I guess so." He answered.

Ezilian twisted the corner of his mouth ever so slightly, as if thinking about something. "Will she be all right?"

Mike smiled. "She'll be fine." He thought about it for a moment longer and cleared his throat. "Ezilian?"

"Yeah?"

"If you could…keep an eye on her." Mike asked.

"Why, are you leaving forever?" Ezilian countered boldly. Mike shook his head quickly, a little surprised at the question. The older boy scratched at his long and pointed ear. "Well then, I don't think I have to worry. And neither should you."

Ezilian pulled himself off of the tree and jammed his hands into the pockets of his trousers, strolling past Michael with a disinterested gaze. "You know where to find us, hero." Came the words of the last living Ranuforte. "So don't be a stranger."

Mike stood there, facing forward and towards the helipad as Ezilian Ranuforte, the eldest of the Argonian children, continued back towards Coralcola Village. Their home. Mike pondered what Ezilian had meant exactly, as there was an air of respect that had seeped into his tone when he had walked away. Slowly smiling to himself as he picked his feet up off of the ground and continued to trudge forward, Michael Jones realized how far they had all come.

They would be fine. All of them now.

* * *

Dr. Jones was waiting beyond the range of the helicopter's main rotor, smiling with his arms crossed when Mike came by. There was excitement on the older man's face, but a respect as well for the youth who had grown so much in only three months.

"Did you say all your goodbyes?" He asked his nephew. Mike looked at his Uncle and smiled, trying his best not to be sad. He nodded his head, and Dr. Jones let out a chuckle. "Well, all right then."

They got onto the helicopter, relaxing back into the fake leather seats and bracing themselves against the vibration of the craft as the rotors revved back up, lifting them into the air in seconds.

The pilot spoke over the intercom. "It'll be about a two and a half-hour trip to Hawaii. Settle back and enjoy the ocean view, gentlemen."

It wasn't the ocean view Mike looked for. As they went up hundreds, thousands of feet into the air and turned to the northeast, he put his face up next to the window in the helicopter's side and stared down.

Coralcola, always there, destined to become a distant memory, fell away from them. Mike bit his lip, thinking back to when he'd first come here, looking for a vacation and loads of fishing. Instead, he'd found an adventure worthy of a Nintendo game, almost like Link or Mario.

The island had held more than its share of secrets, and for all he knew now, all he'd experienced, Mike somehow felt that seductive crescent of land in the middle of the wide blue Pacific had kept more hidden from him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could hear something his history teacher, a somewhat whimsical man who diverted on philosophical tangents, had once said.

"And no secrets were truer in times bound and free, than those left still and cold in the sea." It had haunted him then, and he was surprised he could remember it now.

His hand went up against the window, as if he could somehow grab the now small island and put it in his pocket, take it with him. He couldn't, of course…but the memory of Coralcola, all he had endured would stay with him forever.

"I'll come back." He promised. Maybe the promise was meant for him. Maybe it was meant for Princess Mica. Maybe it was for Coralcola itself, as alive to him now as any person ever was.

It was just a promise. One to be kept.

Princess Mica's thoughts floated up to him, clear and true even by the great distance between them. Mike smiled, thinking to himself that the bond they shared could even reach to the other side of the earth if it had to.

_I'll be waiting…Right here. And if you ever get lost, if you ever want to find me, all you have to do…Is follow the southern cross._

Mike closed his eyes, receiving the message. She had expected no reply, and he gave none. But their connection lingered, as she let his presence swirl about her, comforting and knowing.

Dr. Jones reached over and nudged Mike's shoulder, ending their link and bringing him back to the smaller world of the helicopter. "I'll bet you're glad that I invited you to spend your summer vacation with me." His Uncle said, smiling.

Mike nodded slowly, acknowledging it. "More than you know." Came his answer, so soft the archaeologist could barely hear it over the steady thrum of the helicopter's rotor.

Dr. Jones knew by the distant, glazed look of his nephew that Michael's thoughts were still back on that island. He was still thinking of Mica, and probably would for a long while. For a moment, Dr. Jones thought it might do to take his nephew aside and warn him of the dangers of his thinking, of the course he had chosen. Princess Mica was beautiful. She was receptive. She, and all the other Argonians saw him as a hero, rightfully so.

But no matter how one put it, the archaeologist thought to himself with a glimmer of sadness, they were still from two different worlds. She had lost one and now belonged to another. Michael's world was back in Seattle, and all of this was nothing more than a fanciful dream, when seen in that regard.

Yet…In Michael's eyes, there was a new fire there, a strength of will and a determination that had not existed before it all. It may have been a dream, but it was Michael's dream.

Steve Jones had never allowed anyone to sway him from his own dreams.

So Michael Jones, the new generation of his family…Could keep his. For a while.

Dr. Jones patted Mike's shoulder, looking past the side of his head to the last sliver of Coralcola as it disappeared into the horizon, and out of their lives.

"We'll come back." Michael said, determined, yet not demanding.

His Uncle nodded, for next summer was coming. "We'll come back." He said, reaffirming Mike's words. The boy looked back up at him, smiling gently with those youthful eyes of his. Eyes still looking for the world's wonders. Eyes that Dr. Jones had almost forgotten.

In that moment, Dr. Stephen Jones felt closer to his nephew than he ever had before. He may have been his brother's son by birth…

But Michael's spirit was a mirror of his. And all was right with the world.

The two looked away from where Coralcola was, staring out to the open waves and the future ahead of them.

The sea below was as blue as the sea their helicopter swam them through, and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. There were no nightmares.

Just dreams.

* * *

School started the week after I got back. That was helpful…being occupied by homework and fall training kept me from missing Mica too badly. I'll admit, though, it wasn't the easiest time.

In my history classes, we began to study the flow of Polynesians across the Pacific Ocean, and I had to stop myself from interrupting the instructor and telling them they were wrong.

Of course, the truth that I knew wasn't something that I could exactly share. My Uncle and I had taken a vow of secrecy about our experiences on Coralcola Island for a very good reason. Beyond the fact that even trying to explain about the Argonians, the Starseekers, Rellini-Uros and half-alien children and descendants would have marked us as people fit for the nuthouse, there was something deeper. We had a responsibility to protect the Coralcolans, to let them keep their privacy. The islands of the Southern Cross had continued to remain relatively untouched by the modern world, outside of the occasional lighthouse and my Uncle's laboratory at Coralcola itself. All that would have been lost, and their lives ruined. And even more important than the Coralcolans, who trusted us to leave them be, there were seven children who we had pledged to keep safe from the prying eyes of the world.

I loved one of them. I had saved them all from Zoda…twice. I wasn't about to lose them because I blurted out things that nobody else could know.

About twice a week, I'd get a telepathic message from Mica, and we'd see how the other was doing. Usually, they happened when nobody else was around, but there was one time that she popped into my head at the dinner table. I got some odd looks from the folks before I excused myself.

I found myself visiting my Uncle Steve a lot more often. My mom thought that was funny; I'd gone most of my life not ever seeing my Uncle, and then after one summer with him, 'He'd become my best friend', to paraphrase one of her comments. If she wanted to think like that, I wasn't going to stop her.

It wasn't the truth of it, of course.

The truth was that I was dying to know, just as much as Giskard was, what else sat in the Oxford Wonder World book my Uncle had. There was more to it than the beginning that they were able to translate.

_The fallen traveler waits in time._

I just don't think that any of us were prepared for what the rest of the message said.

We weren't prepared for what it would mean, either.

* * *

It should have just been another ordinary fall day. After school was over with, I was on my way home when Mica gave me a call. Even though it was a telepathic message, that didn't stop her from making a joke of it. 'Pick up the phone', she said. Right.

She told me that she'd had a dream. That her father, King Hirocon of all people had spoken to her. The weird thing was his message didn't make any sense. Something about reversing the code, is what she said to me. She thought it might help Uncle Steve translate the book, but I didn't understand it. Ancient alien languages and code weren't my thing, really.

Still, I told her I'd pass it along. So I took a detour from my route home and headed to Uncle Steve's rented flat. At the very least, I had thought, he could use some cheering up. Dad had said he'd been cooping himself up surrounded by his old books for way too long, and I tended to agree.

Just as I had thought, our family's Archaeologist was in his study, wracking his brain for the answer. He cheered up a bit when he spotted me, though he was curious as to why I'd come out to bother him on a school day. I told him.

The passage he was struggling with had turned out to be, even decoded into decipherable ancient Argonian, pure gibberish. "Was it a cat I saw? Was it a rat I saw?"

Whatever had been in Mica's dream tipped off something in his the mental scales of his brain. He set himself to work again, moving in a flurry around me and scribbling away inside of the cover of the book, putting English underneath the complex verse.

He paused and read it aloud, and I might have laughed. It sounded like something out of an old doo wop record he liked listening to, more than some sort of secret script.

Yes, I laughed at it. I just thought I'd make that clear before I continued, so that could sit in your brain. Uncle Steve, chanting "Papa oom mow mow..." And countless other garbled syllabic nonsense. Got that visual image?

Good.

Now imagine, if you will, that that element of STUPIDITY is exactly what was needed to translate the Oxford Wonder World. And now, I'll ask you to take a leap of faith more. But you're pretty open-minded, right? I mean, this is me we're talking about. The same Mike Jones who went up in an alien spaceship and stopped space pirates and their transforming boss? The same Mike Jones who went island hopping in a multimillion dollar experimental submarine, even though I didn't have more than my learner's permit at the time?

At least you're staying with me. So there's one last leap of faith I need you all to make.

Imagine, if you will, that that book was more than just a book.

Believe, if you can, that because of Uncle Steve's desire to figure out every archaeological puzzle placed in front of him, that I was at the beginning of an entirely new adventure. One that would certainly take me away from home, and away from school for several days.

Remember the ancient Argonian verse scrawled in the cover. Think long and hard about it.

_The fallen traveler waits in time._

* * *

I recall thinking to myself, as I went tumbling through nauseating bright lights to places unknown, away from the worried, screaming voice of my Uncle with the book tumbling beside me, that I would have strangled whoever wrote that in there.

There are times you just don't want to appreciate a good literal description of things.

I recall thinking to myself when I came to, 'There really is no justice in the world', because not only did I have a damn headache, but it was colder than any winter I'd ever felt in Seattle before.

Of course, it didn't help matters when I woke up that I was standing in open, frozen wasteland. Outside of my backpack, and my Uncle's book, the Oxford Wonder World, I really had nothing on me. Trying to make sense of what had just happened was no easy picnic. But as far as I could tell, I HAD been in Seattle, and I was anywhere but wherever the book had sent me.

Wandering through the caves, I had to fight off the beasts and creatures with nothing but rocks I found strewn about. At least I had that much; My pitching talents came in handy, and I found that they were just as effective in scaring beasts off as a bag of horsehides were.

Eventually, I made my way to a settlement, and it was right about then I felt like I could have quoted the Wizard of Oz to excess. There wasn't any yellow brick road in my future, but I was definitely not in Kansas anymore.

It looked and it felt like something out of the stone age. About as helpful too. When few things began to make sense, I turned to the things that didn't.

After all, if aliens could travel across the galaxy to seek refuge on Earth...

As luck would have it, a fella whose name I surmised was Tink seemed charitable to strangers who didn't walk around in fur loincloths in the cold. He gave me a stone axe for my trouble, and I found myself being asked to take out a creature by the name of "Yum-Yum" who'd been causing them some headaches as of late. Recalling that it wasn't the first time I'd been asked to stop a critter who'd gotten out of hand, I set out. No yo-yo this time around; No, now I had an axe. It worked just about as well, thankfully, and Yum-Yum went down. Beyond him, and out on a snowy cliff, I found an object which didn't belong; a strange tetrad which pulsed with some unknown power.

I think in retrospect, I felt a familiarity with it. No voice spoke to me, and no power came, but there was something in how it felt…

I didn't have long to dwell on it. My loneliness in it ended when a voice I'd begun to forget flashed in my mind.

Mica was speaking to me…And God, it felt good to hear her voice.

* * *

As she explained to me, I'd vanished out of thin air in Seattle, according to what my Uncle Steve had radioed to those concerned in Coralcola. He realized too late a function to the 'Oxford Wonder World' he'd passed over before; when triggered with the proper words, it acted as a time travel device. And according to the pages I skimmed through, I'd ended up in the Ice Age. But Tetrad in hand, and the day saved for the moment, Mica gave me some much needed cheer. Apparently, as long as I kept the book close, and kept trudging, I'd end up back home. That was the hope at least. I just had to finish collecting all the other tetrads first.

I think my line to her before we said goodbye was "Didn't I just get done saving the world?" She laughed in her own way, and wished me luck. There was longing in her voice, and probably in mine as well. I wanted to get back just as much as she wanted me to be safe. With a mental note to kill Uncle Steve when I escaped this adventure through time, I opened up the Wonder World, spoke the incantation he'd stumbled across back in Seattle, and opened up the floodgates to adventure once more.

* * *

If you'll recall the last time I had to recap matters, I killed a lot of things with my yo-yo. Well, this time around, I ended up killing a lot of things with my axe-at least, at first. The next place I went was ancient Egypt, and even I could recognize that fact. Outside of having to play delivery boy for Cleopatra, I ended up finding a bronze dagger to replace my worn-down axe, thanks to a merchant who probably had a few screws missing. Of course, most people would think that the bizarre part of the affair in the Nile would be fighting that floating mask that looked like a reject from King Tut's tomb, but that's not the case.

No, the winner of the weird moments award went to a crazy monkey I met in the marshes. Not only did the monkey have the ability to communicate with me (Which seemed about as rational as anything else that ever happened), but he taught me a trick I thought had been lost to me forever.

Bana Omoy would have smiled, if she were alive. I found out that even weakened after saving Mica's life, I could still use Shilivre. It was the monkey who proved it to me, when he taught me how to tap into it, and with a level of patience that Ezilian had never shown me, taught me how to harness it effectively. The result was a 'Psychic Shockwave'…A coalesced burst of Shilivre harnessed by mental control. Turned out it did more to wreck that floating mask's day than my dagger did. I tried to forget the whole experience as a bad dream and collected the tetrad in Egypt before moving on.

Now here's something that might blow your mind; Sir Arthur Conan Doyle wasn't telling fiction. Sherlock Holmes was alive and well in the late 19th century England, because that's where I ended up next and that's who I met. After getting in a tangle with the law, I met the jolly old violin playing fool himself, who was hot on the tail of a shady character named 'Soda', or something along those lines.

I don't believe in coincidences. I didn't believe in them then, and I don't now. He had mispronounced the name, but I knew the moment that Sherlock said it, things had come full circle. Zoda, or at least another duplicate of him, was back.

Even if the true Zoda was dead, a clone was bad enough. With Tetrads on my mind, I entered into the sewers of old London and got to work. More of the squirrelly creatures Zoda's original clone had spawned in the spaceship months before were the first order of the day, followed by a brain.

And then the clone itself, who nearly took me down. More by dumb luck than skill, I think, I hurt it enough that it panicked. It tried to transform into the creature that had been the source of my nightmares long ago…But unlike the first clone of Zoda back in the spaceship, it couldn't pull it off. It exploded apart, and I took home another Tetrad piece. One thing was for certain, though; It was looking less like some freak accident that I'd ended up surfing the timestream.

Where Zoda was involved, nothing was coincidence.

* * *

The Wonder World had picked several colorful locations for me to get lost in; The Wild West came next, where beyond picking a fight with a skeletal miner, the only thing of importance to mention was a talking donkey who, just like that monkey in Ancient Egypt, somehow had the ability to attune me with my lost Shilivre a little bit more. The 'Psychic Shockwave' that Ezilian had thought I'd never learn got an upgrade, and off we went.

In Renaissance Italy, I met the master himself; Leonardo Da Vinci, who through his stilted English (Not his first language, by any means) after I broke him out of the stone statue he was trapped in, informed me that there was a creature named Zoda running loose. Wonderful, I thought to myself…ANOTHER one. I got a katana from the man, and while it was meant to be a precision instrument of death (One of the things you learn from watching too many foreign films), in my hands, it threw as well as anything else.

And just so we can keep this clear…I was the guy who inspired Leonardo to draw the Mona Lisa's face like that. Grateful for being freed, he loaned me a strange flying machine he was working on; You never thought anything he designed ever made it off the page, but it did. I headed for a castle in the distance, where I would find the next Tetrad.

Of course, nothing is ever that easy, and another telepathic communication from Mica sent me into overdrive.

Zoda's clones had come to Coralcola in my absence, and badgered the secrets of my time travel abilities from Uncle Steve, who'd returned to Coralcola and his lab (And Giskard, most importantly) to try and figure out a way to get me home safely. She was cut off soon after, making clear the point that they were all in serious danger. I made my way through the castle's traps and creatures, scored the tetrad, and prepared to leap.

But then the next clone of Zoda did it for me. He launched me to Transylvania.

* * *

There's a fine line between reality and fantasy, or at least I used to believe that. But after I made it through the Transylvanian castle's hordes, I began to wonder if the myths were influenced by reality. Of course, it might have been the other way around, and just as Zoda's arrival in the Islands of the Southern Cross had revived restless spirits and dangerous monsters, imagination powered reality's beasts.

With katana and my improved Psychic Shockwave in hand, I fought the next Zoda to a standstill, and then blew him away, despite his transformation into a strange owl-like critter. Another Tetrad, another Time Warp, another place.

By this point, my worries for Mica and the others had reached a fever pitch. Were they still alive? Were they captured? Had the Zoda clones tried to do what the true Zoda had, and drain them of their Shilivre and their life? I had no way of knowing with Mica's mindlink down.

All I knew was that I was still miles and centuries from home, when everyone I knew needed me most. But at least things were looking up, I determined. I'd gone from one castle to another…

From the home of Dracula to a place of knights and tree-covered fields. And there was trouble here, too, but not from Zoda, thankfully.

Myth and history seemed to blur all the more for me, because I had stumbled straight into Camelot. King Arthur himself, head of the round table asked for my assistance. He'd actually been expecting me, since Merlin (Who was, apparently just as alive) had told him I'd be coming. How exactly Merlin knew that was a question I never got answered, at least from the king.

Bargaining on the principle that I always scored a Tetrad whenever I helped out the locals, I agreed to King Arthur's request. He even knighted me, which means I'm the last living Knight of the Round Table in all the world.

"Kill a dragon," I remember saying to myself as I walked away from the castle and towards the very large cave along the mountain path. "I've killed worse." Well, that may have been the case, and certainly a firebreathing menace is easier to handle than a psychotic alien with transformative capabilities, but it's no picnic. I slugged my way through his den, fought off his minions, and kept on going.

Of course, the main question as I wandered through the cave was what happened next. And then an owl flew down, and answered the question for me.

Or, at least, it started out like an owl, as unusual as a talking owl was. Then it changed into a donkey…And then, into a monkey…and finally, into a man.

Standing majestic in his blue robes, the white-bearded wizard known as Merlin introduced himself, smiling as though he had expected me all along.

* * *

"You seem a little dazed, Mr. Jones." Merlin announced, amiable to a fault as he folded his arms. "Yes, call me Merlin. The magician from King Arthur's court."

Michael Jones' throat was dry as he lifted a shaky hand to point. "I know who you are…but you're telling me…the monkey in ancient Egypt…"

"That was me."

"And the donkey in the wild west…"

"Me also."

"But, that…that's impossible, you couldn't…"

"Unless, I too, had the power to transcend time and space." The old wizard concluded, unable to stop a grin. "I find it's helpful to take alternate forms at times. I hope you can forgive the deception, but it was necessary at the time."

"Have you been following me?" Mike accused the old man. Merlin thought it over for a moment, then shook his wizened head.

"Following you? No. But I have been guiding you, Michael Jones. Both you and your uncle, for some time now." Michael's flabbergasted stare prompted him to continue, which the wizard did with a sigh. "Long ago, I had a very good friend from a planet far distant from this one. His name was Hirocon."

A lightbulb flashed in Mike's mind. "But Hirocon is the name of…" He shook his head. "Good lord. You mean to tell me that Mica's father, the king…"

"Yes, I knew him." Merlin mused. "A bit stuffy at times, but you couldn't find a better player for Nine-Men's Morris. He spread the Tetrads across time and space, so that only a chosen hero of his people could find them." Merlin pointed to Mike. "That would be you, in case you were wondering."

"Why me?" Mike asked, flabbergasted.

"Well, when you saved the children, I assumed you'd know why." The old magician deadpanned. "Hirocon never got into the specifics of Argonian religion and mythology, but I recall there was something about the Starseer returning in their hour of greatest need. And when those children needed a hero the most, you saved them. You even had the Starseer's weapon, did you not?"

"I did." Mike retorted. "But not anymore. And if it's all the same, I put that debate to rest a long time ago. I really don't know if I believe in reincarnation, so whether or not I am the Starseer or not, I just happened to be there."

"True hearts in the darkness." Merlin suggested, smiling again. "I see you've taken good care of that book I left for your Uncle."

The corner of the wonder world jutted out from the side of his coat, and Mike tucked it back away. "YOU gave this book to my Uncle?!"

"The fallen traveler waits in time." Merlin nodded, repeating the sentence. "I was the courier then, yes. But I had my reasons, so don't go believing I'm some sort of sick man out to control your life. I'm not."

"So why did you do it then!?" Mike demanded. "You've taken me from my life, thrown me headlong into another fight, and for what?!"

"For the Tetrads, Michael." Merlin said back, chastising. "For the Tetrads. Believe me, you have no idea how important they are. They had to be found."

"So why didn't you collect them!? You're supposed to be the most powerful magician in history!"

"Magic?" Merlin questioned, and smiled. He lifted his hand and produced an orb of energy Michael recognized. "You can make a room as bright as day with the flick of a switch. You can talk to people thousands of miles away instantly. Are such things magic in your world? No, Michael. Hirocon came to me because I had a rare gift among our kind; an aberration, a trait countless generations had tried to remove by genetic drift. Some will call it magic, and perhaps it is. But Hirocon always told me it had a true name; Shilivre."

"Heinous." Mike uttered, sitting down. "Totally heinous."

"It's not quite so unusual, you know." Merlin sighed, kneeling down beside the boy sent to save the world again. "Bana Omoy had Shilivre. Zodus, the half-breed had Shilivre. And you have it."

"Had it."

"No, HAVE it." Merlin chirped critically. "Lands above, you're a stubborn one. Michael, you've ALWAYS had Shilivre. When you saved Princess Mica, you lost too much of your power. It was too weak to respond, and you were untrained with it in the first place. I gave it back to you; or rather, I helped you to remember how to use it."

Merlin lifted himself to his feet, brushing out his blue robes. "Just as I'll help you to learn how to use it to its fullest. For what you'll have to do, you'll need it. Nothing less will do."

Mike stood back up. "But what if I'm not the…"

"Starseer or not, you are their hero." Merlin explained. "You are the one chosen by the Argonians to defend them. And you alone have Shilivre strong enough to stop the shadows of Zodus."

Mike bit his lip. "Are you sure that I'm the one?"

"Hirocon could transcend time and space. It was he who taught me how to do so." Merlin exhaled. "Rellini-Uros? Zodus? They exist in the ancient past of Earth. Yet you saw Zodus alive and well, a relic from that forgotten age. You fought with him, defeated him. I was Hirocon's second contact in the timestream, and the one he trusted when Zodus fell from grace." The old wizard removed his star-sparkled blue hat, pursing his lips. "He believed a hero would come to make right all the wrongs his mistakes had caused. I have searched for years for that hero, and if it is not you, Michael, then there is truly nobody else who can do what must be done, and all my work, my promise to Hirocon was in vain."

Michael shut his eyes. "Merlin…tell me. Just what did Hirocon put in those Tetrads that was so important?"

"The most important thing of all." The sage old man whispered. "The hope of a lost people. Beyond these tunnels, beyond the dragon, is the final Tetrad. With it, you will carry the fate of every Argonian that has been…and every one yet to be."

It was plenty to take in. But then, Mike rationalized, he'd been forced to accept plenty of things in his time. Once more, he was being asked to become a hero, however unwilling he was.

But this was the third time it had happened. And maybe, just as he was stronger than he had been…Perhaps he wasn't quite as unwilling.

The boy from Seattle opened his eyes again, and they shone with purpose. "Teach me what I need to know." He asked, and Merlin felt a surge of hope run through him. "Teach me to use my power."

The old wizard nodded his head.

It was time.

* * *

He taught me, all right. The Psychic Shockwave received its final boost, and just as Merlin had said, the Shilivre had never really left me.

I really had just lost my connection, but it had always been there. Merlin said his farewells, offered a few last words of encouragement, and disappeared, probably to get back to King Arthur. He had his place, after all, and I had mine.

Farther in the cave, I met with some more resistance before finally reaching the dragon itself. I put the beast itself down, saving all of Camelot from being burned and razed. With Katana in hand and the "Ultra Psychic Shockwave" at my back, it was easy. I finally felt, as I was fighting against the dragon, like I had regained all the strength I'd lost when I revived Princess Mica and nearly sacrificed my own life. No…Not just regained. I was stronger now than I'd ever been.

Strong enough to be the hero Merlin, and apparently Hirocon, had needed. But just as I found the last Tetrad, I received a frantic bulletin from Mica.

They were all in danger. Coralcola had been invaded. Zoda was back, and…

The connection was lost before she could tell me anything more, and panic hit overdrive. With all the Tetrads in hand, I opened up the Oxford Wonder World, a gift from Merlin placed in my uncle's hands for the purpose of sending me on a crazed search for the Tetrads months before, and spoke the incantation I knew by heart.

I was done with the past. I was done with the 'great plan' of Merlin, who had acted to carry out the final wishes of Hirocon. From now on, for better or worse, Tetrads or no, I was homeward bound, to my own time, to my own place.

Home was no longer Seattle, though. As I spiraled through the strange blue vortex towards the future, my present, a thought came to mind. Home really was where the heart was. And my heart was with Mica. She was in danger, and that one concern overrode everything else.

To Coralcola I went. To one last battle. I found the island deserted, save for far more pigs than I'd ever seen before, and one badly shaken native who explained that the pigs were all the Coralcolans, transformed by Zoda.

But it wasn't Zoda. No, the real Zoda had died at Rellini-Uros, by my hands. This one, like the two beasts I'd faced in England and Transylvania, like the one I'd destroyed in the alien spaceship trying to save the stasis cubes, was just another clone.

I had my Shilivre. I had the Ultra Psychic Shockwave. I had the tunnels of Coralcola in front of me. Old familiar passages remained much the same, and the effect of unbridled alien evil had risen again. The Serpent I'd destroyed long ago, nothing but bones, rose up and fought me, as dangerous as ever. But I was dangerous too, more than I had been. I still couldn't swim, and every jump as I avoided his fire blasts was one which threatened to end it all. None of it mattered. Mica was in danger. The others were in danger. I laid the bones of the Serpent back to rest, and fell to a deep chasm I'd never been in before.

The clone of Zoda had been planning. Within the barren rooms, seeped with his evil, I had to fight duplicates, real or not, of all the beasts I had fought through time. But they'd fallen once, and with the Ultra Psychic Shockwave, they fell again.

I took down everything that he threw at me, and kept on coming. Stamina and the few vials of medicine I had kept me going…

Until the bitter end, when at last, there were no more minions. No more shadows. No more ghosts. It was just me, and the last clone of a monster who no longer existed.

A dangerous clone, to be sure. Perhaps I really was the Starseer. Perhaps I wasn't. It didn't matter, in the end. Maybe it never had.

I was Michael Jones, the hero of the Argonians, the traveler of time, the retriever of the mystical Tetrads.

In the bowels of what had become my home, I fought a final glimmer of an evil I'd long since shattered. He would not win, and not because of anything he did wrong.

I was Michael Jones.

The stars were with me.

* * *

Perhaps the alien had thought to confuse Michael, overwhelm him by sheer numbers. It was a routine which Michael, versed in hero culture as he was, knew a lot about. The Shredder had used it against Splinter. That old bat of a wizard had used it to annoy Conan the Barbarian. Fill up a room with lots of illusions, harmful or not, and have it so that the real enemy hid within the horde.

One major difference between fiction and reality, he was keen to remind himself, was that he could still see the real one. His quiet eyes saw everything.

"Cute trick." Mike deadpanned, sheathing his katana and bringing up a powerful globe of Shilivre in his right hand. "But I know this trick, 'Zoda'. It's not going to work."

In a room full of squirming, bouncing balls of Zoda spawn, the one that glowed bright didn't bother offering a response, knowing it would betray him. Mike smiled. "Sorry, pal. But I see right through you." He let out a scream and fired his Psychic Shockwave. The bolt of supercharged mental energy blasted the lone true spawn into the wall, where it simmered and collapsed into ash.

The presence of evil didn't leave the room, though. Michael drew his katana back out and looked through the room. "You can come out. I know you're in here."

Lurking in the dark corner, a figure which had been invisible stepped forward. With his horned helmet, his long flowing purple cape, and his thick battle armor and metallic clawed fingers, he was every inch of what Michael had once feared…but did no longer.

"Your skills have improved, boy. You even use Shilivre now?"

"I've been using Shilivre for a long time, clone." Mike countered, leveling the long Japanese sword on his shoulder. "I used it to kill your forerunners. 'X' and 'Y.' Which makes you Z, doesn't it?"

"Call me what you will." The alien rumbled, shooting his arm out and firing a blast of power. Mike swung his blade down, and an aura of white light flared about the blade. Shot and steel met, and the odd sound which powered the ricochet made the monster pause.

"Surprised?" Mike asked, tired of games and tired of nightmares which didn't die. "Shilivre can do more than fire bolts of energy. It can stop them too."

Zoda Z's eyes, buried within his helmet, flared a bright red. "You think I'm afraid of an old fairytale?" He fired off another round of shots, and this time Mike found the better path to be running.

"The Starseer?" Mike panted, making an aerial leap to avoid the worst of the scatterspray. Careful to not impale himself on his katana, he rolled out of the jump and came back to his feet quickly. "The guy you were created from was. And he had reason to be, because I KILLED him!"

"YOU ARE NOT THE STARSEER!!" Zoda Z roared, flashing about the room right on top of Mike and firing a globe of strange energy from both hands. Mike's eyes flared in surprise, knowing what it was. If it hit, it would transform him into a helpless pig, like all the villagers. That he could not allow.

Focusing all the raw strength he could, he channeled his Shilivre into the katana and hurled it point first. It cleaved the alien's blast in two, which angled off safely away from Mike, then continued on.

Mike's aim, honed by long experience of throwing baseballs and countless other objects both deadly and not, was true. The sharp katana, folded steel with its reinforced point which marked it as different than other blades of its kind, buried itself deep into Zoda Z's stomach as it gashed through all the armor he wore. The alien choked and stumbled backwards, his hands clutching at the tremendous wound. The sword was buried up to the hilt through him.

"The Starseer had Ellini." Mike Jones reminded Zoda, standing back up with a cold stare. "I don't. So for now, no, I'm not the Starseer. I'm just the kid who's going to kill you, save them, and be the hero I've always been asked to be. And besides, clone…you're no Star Devil." Mike Jones glowered. "I don't need a legacy to finish you off."

The alien wheezed for a moment, grunting in pain as it ripped the blade free and dropped it, blood and all, to the ground. "Damn you…Inchaben Kyrchai…"

Apparently, some things translated well between clones, as Michael could recall that the first one, 'Nightmare Zoda', had said the same thing to him months before.

As Zoda Z roared and began to transform into a hideous bipedal creature with rippling muscles and devilish form, it seemed that other things did as well.

It smashed a foot down on the katana which Leonardo da Vinci had given to Mike, hundreds of years before, and broke it in two. _"No more maces, no more toys, no blades and no mystic throwing stars!" _The transformed Zoda-Z roared, throwing his arms out and encircling the room with fire. _"It's just you and me, BOY, and you have no weapon!!"_

Mike dashed out of the way of the first salvo of bulletlike blasts the alien threw at him, watching carefully out of the corner of his eye. Even as he avoided the first attack, the blurred form of the monstrous clone was whirling about the room, ready to level a second.

"No weapon, huh?" Mike Jones mused, and he tightened his right hand into a fist, channeling his Shilivre into it. The alien flashed in front of him, opening his mouth for another blast.

He received a bolt of his own, a crackling baseball-sized orb of energy that choked off his attack and sent him stumbling backwards.

Wisps of white light rose from Michael's hand as he pulled it back. "I don't need a weapon to kill you. I AM a weapon." He growled. "And that was only the first level of my Psychic Shockwave."

Zoda-Z righted himself and snarled, hurling a line of fire towards the boy. Again, Michael simply rolled away and readied another blast. The locus of white light around his hand increased, stretching up to his arm. "Now what happens when we slap you around with a level TWO?!"

Zoda came at him like a deadly top, claws and tail extended out to slice away at him. The boy turned and ran away, his strong legs clearing the distance faster than Zoda could spin. A quick blast bounced off of the whirling supervillain, unable to penetrate the attack.

No attack could go on for forever, and eventually Zoda-Z came dragging to a halt, releasing a set of bombs when he settled.

A salvo of five Super Shockwaves knocked him backwards again, and left a patch of crackling smoke to rise up from his chest. His bombs exploded off target, and in the clearing smoke, Michael Jones still stood, glowing bright white.

_"Impossible…" _Zoda-Z rasped, hurling another splash of energy bolts.

This time, the boy didn't move. He held his hand up, palm facing outwards, and his aura glowed all the brighter. The blasts that hit him dissipated harmlessly, and the rest flew around him.

"Nothing is impossible." Mike answered, and his hand glowed white hot, blindingly bright. "Aliens came to ancient earth. An exile became a space invader. A kid fulfilled a prophecy thousands of years old. A weapon from the stars came and went. And evil made duplicates to harass those who did not deserve it."

The blast Mike fired off was larger than any other Zoda had seen, and it burned so terribly when it hit that the beast roared and his armorlike skin bubbled.

_"And most importantly…A hero can triumph over the shadows of his past."_

Zoda-Z tried to run. He couldn't. He tried to jar Mike loose with flame and blast and spin, but nothing worked. In the end, all he could do was scream out in pain and rage as the hero of Argonia three times over immolated him in mental fire, the Ultra Shockwave that Merlin himself had taught him.

In the end, Zoda-Z died like the others all had. Without a final retort, without a sharp quip, and without ceremony. He died as he lived; empty and burning with nothing but darkness.

In the stillness that followed, Mike's aura subsided away, and his emotions calmed themselves to a flat plateau. He looked on to the charred, unmoving corpse of Zodus' last legacy, and knew that at last, it was done.

"Game over." He whispered, walking to his broken katana and carefully tucking the pieces back into its sheath.

Beyond Zoda-Z, beyond the final chamber, through one last tunnel, Michael Jones found what he had spent centuries trying to get back to. As the Argonian children cheered and looked on, he swept up Seremichaela Argos into his arms and spun her about. The laughter and cries of relief carried them all to peace, and even Ezilian, leaning back against the wall and watching with folded arms, smiled.

"You did it." Princess Mica whispered, holding him close.

Ragged, bedraggled, and worn out, Michael had never looked so beautiful to her. The boy she loved smiled back, tracing a thumb along the long curve of her ear.

"I told you I'd come back."

"You could have made it back sooner." Giskard, ever the pragmatist, quipped with a grumble.

Princess and hero ignored the comment, for as their lips met in a kiss long missed, there were more important things to think about.

Michael Jones was home again.

* * *

_Michael_

When the final Zoda clone died, whatever he'd done to the inhabitants of Coralcola died with him. Amethyst, Rozyln, Giskard, Ezilian, Marlin, Bakusian, Mica and I emerged from the depths of the caverns to cheers and relieved celebration. Back to their normal selves, the villagers welcomed us back…and welcomed me as a champion again, despite my protesting. My Uncle Steve pulled me aside for a bit, and the Argonians ran on ahead towards Chief Omoy's hut.

My disappearance from Seattle hadn't gone unnoticed, Uncle Steve told me. My parents had been worried sick, and as far as they knew, I'd been kidnapped, or worse. I'd have to go back, he told me, and I knew he was right.

I just wish that there was a better excuse we could offer besides that I skipped town, 'borrowed' some money from my Uncle, and hopped a flight to Hawaii and a helicopter to Coralcola after that. Of course, the only other excuse either of us could think of was the truth…And both of us agreed, as we'd done countless times before, that the truth of our misadventures on Coralcola was the one thing we could never share.

It meant that when Uncle Steve and I got back home to Seattle, I'd be in for a serious grounding. The flipside, he told me as he offered a reassuring smile, was that the next summer when he and I came back to Coralcola, I wouldn't have to save the day again. And of course, as I found myself telling him, Mica was worth it. She was worth everything. He waved me off and turned back for his laboratory, presumably to make the phone call which would let my parents know I was alive and well.

As for me…I went to the Chief's hut, to catch up to the others.

It was time to figure out what exactly the Tetrads held. "The hope of an entire people," Merlin had said to me.

I didn't know it would take mine away.

The Argonian children crowded about the table, each coming up with a different insight as they stared at the Tetrads Mike had recovered throughout his journeys in the timestream. The geometric shapes glistened with an inner light, quiet but holding some power they all, with the exception of Giskard, could feel.

It radiated the strength of the Argonians.

Blind to its power, Giskard nonetheless was the wisest of them, and it was he who picked up the long piece of four cubes, holding it in his hand with a frown. "This technology…I don't know it exactly, but it is eerily similar to something else I know."

Holding her little sister close, Amethyst shook her head. "What, Giskard? What is it?"

Giskard Rorth thought about it for a moment, then looked over to Michael. "Well, Mike? I have a guess, but I'd like to hear your input."

The baseball player from Seattle stroked his chin for a few moments. "I've been dragging these things around in my pockets for a long time…But all I know is what Merlin told me. Hirocon scattered these things throughout time so that they couldn't be easily found, and whatever's inside is supposed to be awfully important to all of you."

"Hm." Giskard exhaled. "But what are they, exactly?"

"I don't really know." Mike admitted.

The scholarly Argonian pulled away from the table and folded his arms behind his back. "Hirocon always did have a thing for puzzles. The cipher was a puzzle, for sure. Our stasis cubes were a puzzle; only your uncle figured out exactly how to unlock them, freeing us in the process. These Tetrads, my friends…It's just another one of our departed king's little surprises. Only this is the kind that doesn't require translating. We have to put them together somehow."

"And then what will happen?" Little Rozlyn chirped, always curious. It was Mica who found the answer, as Giskard's musings began to make sense.

"Like our stasis cubes…Something…or someone…will be released."

"The trick is going to be figuring out what shape they belong in." Marlin pointed out, scratching at his forehead with his crippled right hand. "Hirocon loved a good joke. He could have set them to unlock with one of countless combinations!"

The island chief, who had been passively observing from the back, finally cleared his throat. "If it's all the same to you…I'd like to give it a try. After all, Tetris is my middle name!"

Everybody just stared at him. Bakusian coughed. Mike finally rolled his eyes. "Lord, I should have never let you play my Game Boy this last summer. It's given you too many ideas."

Hapo Omoy scratched at his belly, which had thinned out just a tad, and offered a sheepish grin. "Well, unless anybody else has another idea, I'd still like to try."

With nobody having a better idea in mind, the Argonian children backed off and allowed him the opportunity. The Chief of Coralcola trudged over to the strange blue Tetrads, picking up the long four squared piece shaped like an I.

"Try to make a square!" Amethyst suggested.

"No, a bird!" Rozlyn chirped, eager to offer her advice. Everybody, it seemed, had a suggestion for what shape the Tetrads were supposed to be in after assembly. Everybody except for Mica, Giskard, and Mike himself, who all stood back, glanced at each other, and wondered.

Hapo ignored every idea that they threw at him, concentrating entirely on his own mind's image. "I feel like I know how to do this…" He muttered, looking a little worried as he turned one of the L pieces to sit on the top left side of the growing shape. "Is this what Bana felt some days? Like something was guiding her?"

Another Tetrad slipped into place, then the next…and finally, he pressed the last s shaped Tetrad home, and stood back from the display.

What emerged out of his work resembled an icon, a symbol that Mike didn't recognize.

But every last one of the Argonian children in the room gasped in shock.

"That symbol." Ezilian stammered, the first to be able to speak again. "That's…That's Hirocon's royal seal!"

Giskard blinked a few times, then slapped his forehead. "Hirocon, you sly devil, you… 'The Fallen Traveler waits in time…'"

The Tetrads began to glow, whining as they shifted color. Human and Argonian alike backed away from the table, which collapsed into splinters under the tremendous pressure that the Argonian relics exerted.

Everything exploded in brilliant light…and there, when it died away, stood the person who the Tetrads had been made for. The person who had been silently manipulating it all, through Merlin, through hope, and through belief.

King Hirocon Argos, revived from his slumber, shook out his regal clothes. His tunic was emblazoned with the same symbol that the Tetrads had formed. The children were silent, too shocked to believe it.

Not until the King opened his eyes, saw Mica and smiled did the Princess let out a choking sob. "Hello, Mica." The leader of Argonia said, and the years fell away from them. "I've missed you." He glanced about, exhaling in relief when he saw the rest of them. "And you all made it safe."

"Your majesty." Ezilian Ranuforte stammered, dropping to a knee. The rest of the Argonian children followed suit, save for Mica, who leapt into her father's arms and hugged him tightly, sobbing tears she thought had been buried.

Mike pulled back beside the Chief, watching in fascination.

"This seems familiar." Hapo Omoy commented, pulling up another stalk of celery and biting off the end of it. "It was only three months before that we found the children like this."

"But it means more now, I think." Michael told the chief, older and more mature than he had been back then. "Back then, we pulled them from uncertainty to a place they didn't think they could ever call home. But this is home for them now. King Hirocon was the only thing missing."

"How did you survive?!" Mica exclaimed, when she could talk again.

"After I launched your escape pod, I spread the Tetrads throughout earth's history." Hirocon explained. "I knew that Zodus would try and find you, and that as long as I lived, I would only be a liability to all of you. Zodus was the forgotten son of Rellini-Uros…a half-breed between human and Argonian." The king's face darkened as he said that. "If I knew what trouble it would bring, I would have left the aberration back at the old Starseeker colony. No good can ever come of such mixed blood."

"But how did you know that you would be all right? That WE would be all right?" Giskard Rorth asked, confused.

"I didn't." King Hirocon Argos admitted, hugging his daughter again. "But as Argonia burned all around us, I saw no other choice. I put all my hopes for you in the future of humanity…and I put all my hopes for my own life, transferred into the essence of the Tetrads, in Merlin's."

"I met him." Mike spoke up, drawing the king's attention with a nod. "A weird guy. Nothing like the books usually write him. Of course, I suppose that our authors never could understand Shilivre." He smiled at the end and nodded. "But I suppose…Welcome. Welcome to Earth."

Hirocon frowned and glanced at the Seattle native, and his eyes flared at the sight of Mike's aura. "You hold Shilivre, but…it's trained. Merlin's doing?"

"Merlin's and Mica's." Mike answered. Ezilian coughed loudly, and the hero of Argonia flinched. "Aaand some help from Ezilian too."

"Just who are you?" Hirocon Argos inquired, genuinely curious of the earth boy.

Mica beamed as she drew up beside Michael, wrapping her arms around his and leaning her head on his shoulder. "Daddy, this is Michael Jones. He's the young man who saved us from Zoda and his clones three times over now…and he's the man I love."

Hirocon's curiosity turned to scowls in an instant. "Mica, how can you say that?! You can't love him, you're betrothed to Ezilian!"

The older Argonian boy blanched a little bit, giving his head a shake. "Well, that's not really true anymore, your majesty…See, while you've been gone, some things have happened around here, and…"

"I will hear no more of this." Hirocon barked, silencing Ezilian in a flash. His face softened, the panic subsiding for rational thought. He sighed and shook his head. "Michael, is it? You have done me…done us…more than we can ever truly thank you for. You saved the children from a fate worse than death at Zodus' hands, and you have eliminated that monster…Correct?"

"The first time I fought him, it was a clone." Mike answered, suddenly less sure of himself and far less confident after the marked disapproval Mica's father had given their relationship. "The second time…It was him. Zodus. I had to go to Rellini-Uros to save Mica from him. Or what was left of it. This third time, I had to tangle with three of his clones scattered throughout the timestream."

"That's impossible!" Hirocon exclaimed. "Zodus never knew how to traverse time!"

"He didn't, no." Mike answered. "But when Merlin dropped a book on my Uncle's lap, and he figured it out, the clones dragged it out of him."

Hirocon frowned, but absorbed it with a nod. "But he is dead then? Totally?"

Mike thought about it for a moment. "The guy you dragged from Rellini-Uros thousands of years ago is dead. And so far I've killed four of his clones…so unless he made some outpost in space which spits them out like gumballs, yeah. I'd say we've seen the last of Zoda." The hero exhaled, giving Mica an encouraging smile. "Which means that all of you are finally safe."

Chief Omoy walked up to the king, offering his hand. "My name is Hapo Omoy. I am the Chief of Coralcola Island. Many months ago, when Michael rescued the children, we opened up our homes to them. You too, are welcome to make Coralcola your home."

King Hirocon Argos thought on it for a moment, stroking at his brown beard. "Sadly…We cannot stay long. We must return to Argonia, and rebuild our planet."

"You mean…we're going home?" Mica exclaimed. "But I thought Argonia was destroyed!"

"Not destroyed." Her father answered, shaking his head. "It still remains, and now that we are together again, we can go back and set things right."

The children cheered, and Mica swept Mike into a tight hug. "Oh, Mike! I can never thank you enough! You've given me my life back, my father, and now my home! You'll love it on Argonia, Michael. With your help, we can…"

"No." The King barked, and all the cheering stopped.

All eyes turned to Hirocon, disbelieving. Mica's face went pale, not wanting to believe what she'd heard. "What are you saying, father?"

"Michael Jones will not be coming with us." Hirocon repeated, his face grave. "He will forever be a hero to our people, but…I will not make the same mistake I did with Zodus. And you, Mica, are betrothed to Ezilian."

"But I don't love Ezilian!" Princess Mica protested, frantic. Her hand found Mike's, squeezing it tight. "I love Michael, father, don't you see that?!"

There was pain on Hirocon's face, but he shook his head, standing firm. "It does not matter. It is wrong, Mica. You cannot love him. It will bring only pain. He does not belong in our world."

"He's not Zoda!" Marlin argued, disagreeing with his king as he stepped up beside his friend. "He's good, and noble! He's not evil, King Argos, and he never will be!"

"I once believed that about a friend as well." Hirocon snapped. "I never dreamed he could be so capable of such acts, but in the end, he nearly destroyed us all! All of you are young, naïve…You say what your hearts feel, your blind hearts, and you do not know the mistakes you cause. I am your king, and I have seen what it can cause. No, it does not matter what you believe about Michael. We cannot ever take that chance. Never again."

The children all quieted back to sullen, disappointed silence. Ezilian glanced over to Mike, who was hurt, who looked like he might cry.

Mike looked back, expecting his longtime rival to smirk, to sneer, or to gloat.

There was an apologetic sadness. A begging expression that Ezilian offered…as if he needed Michael's forgiveness for all that Hirocon had done. As for Mica, she did cry.

"I can't…Father, I can't leave him, I…"

"You must." Hirocon told her, again the quiet and defeated figurehead. "For our sakes. And for his. You love him because he is our hero, but it cannot be. In time, you will heal, and you will love again."

Mike bit his lip, for in her glassy eyes, he saw no glimmer of hope. All the crushing sadness, the weight of her title and her responsibilities had come crashing down on top of her, and he wanted to pull her back to him, kiss every tear away, and tell her it would be all right.

But it would never be all right. Never again.

"We will stay the night." King Hirocon told the Island Chief, bringing about an end to the somber reunion. "I am still weak, and need time to recover my strength for the journey ahead of us." He glanced to Mica. "I can see how terribly you care for Michael. But whatever thoughts you might have, you cannot see him tonight." He turned back to the Chief. "We will leave in the morning, and trouble you and your planet no more. For all that's happened to you because of us, I ask your forgiveness." Hirocon glanced over to Mike. "And yours…hero." In the end, Mike noticed, there was regret in his voice. But there was yet one detail that poked at him, as he brushed away his own hot tears.

"It's funny." Michael Jones commented, straightening up and giving Mica one last sad look. "You're the only Argonian here…who never once thought I might be the Starseer."

He stormed out of the hut, no longer feeling like a hero.

Heroes didn't lose the princess after saving the day.

Heroes didn't cry.

* * *

_Coralcola Island_

_September 26__th__, 1990 A.D._

_9:28 P.M._

The village was quiet, for the sun had long since set, and the watchman who wandered about under the firelamps was Hirocon Argos' only fellow spirit.

He sat outside of his daughter's hut, guarding the door intensely as he sat with folded arms. Every so often, he would begin to nod off, but he snapped back awake and shook it off.

He was sad when he should have been happy. His daughter was safe. All the other children were safe, and Zodus was dead. Tomorrow, he would take them all back to Argonia with his power, and they could all begin to live again.

But he had no way of expecting all the strange little events which had unfolded. He couldn't have anticipated that a boy from earth would become the hero he hoped Merlin would find. He couldn't have anticipated that a boy would fulfill a prophecy so old, it had become myth.

He had had no way of knowing his daughter would fall in love with him, and threaten everything all over again.

"Having trouble staying awake, eh?"

Hirocon snapped his eyes back open, looking up to an amiable looking middle-aged human with glasses. The man smiled at him, offering a cup of something steaming in his right hand. "Have some of this. It should help."

Hirocon sized up the man with thinning, balding hair, taking the cup. "Thank you. What is it?"

"An earth drink. Quite popular, and used by millions upon millions of people to keep themselves awake." The man said. "My nephew likes to drink it; an unusual quality of his generation. We call it coffee."

Hirocon tried a sip, finding it bitter enough to cause him to grimace. Still, he could use all the help he could get. Between his second and third sip, he placed the stranger.

"You must be…Dr. Jones. Michael Jones' uncle."

"Guilty as charged." Steve Jones admitted, sitting down on the bench beside the king. "I must admit, I never thought I'd be sitting here with you."

"I never thought that Merlin would ever find anybody enterprising enough to not only translate ancient Argonian, but my own script along with it."

"Oh, the backwards writing?" Dr. Jones grinned. "Well, it's not as unusual as you might think. There was a man by the name of Leonardo Da Vinci some five to six hundred years ago who…well, you get the picture." The archaeologist pushed his glasses up farther along the bridge of his nose. "Still, I couldn't have done it alone. Giskard shares the credit as well."

"That boy always was exceptionally studious." Hirocon acknowledged, taking another drink of coffee. "But I'm confused. Given your nephew's…situation…I didn't think that anybody here would be all that keen on talking to me. Least of all, you."

"I'm old enough to understand more things than my nephew does." Dr. Jones commented blithely. "I told him from the beginning that a relationship with Mica was fraught with danger. But as they say…love is blind."

Hirocon closed his eyes. "She really does love him, doesn't she?"

"She does. With all of her heart." Dr. Jones agreed quietly.

"She hates me right now." Hirocon told the archaeologist, sizing up his cup of coffee. "I can't let her see Michael. They're young, they're impulsive, they might…"

"Do something they'd come to regret later?"

"More than that." The King of Argonia finished off his coffee with one last swig. "I trusted Zodus once. He betrayed me."

"You also trusted Merlin once. And he saved you." Dr. Jones pointed out. "How do you know Mike will turn out like Zodus?"

"I don't know either way. But I cannot risk my people, my planet, a second time on the same issue of faith." Hirocon explained, somber.

Steve Jones let out a long sigh, folding his arms and leaning against the hut.

"She cried herself to sleep." Hirocon whispered.

"So you plan on sitting out here all night, just to make sure that she and Michael can't even get the chance to say goodbye?"

"They can say goodbye tomorrow morning, before we leave. There, I can keep an eye on them."

"Hm." Steve Jones mused. He glanced up at the stars, shaking his head. "It's funny how things work out. Your people abandoned Rellini-Uros after Zodus' treachery became known, yes?"

"We abandoned it, and I had every record of earth and Zodus erased."

"Your legacy lived on, in spite of that." The archaeologist pointed out. "It's been thousands of years since then, but the inhabitants of Coralcola, and of all the other islands about it who look to the Southern Cross, are descended from that place. The shaman who lived on this island before Zodus killed her a few months before…Apparently also had Shilivre."

The announcement startled the king, and Dr. Jones smiled. "As did Merlin. As others throughout time likely have, and will…but here, I think, is the largest concentration of that gift. Having Shilivre is no burden, I've come to think. It's a unique flaw, a precious thing."

"Your nephew has it as well."

"Mike?" Dr. Jones elaborated, shrugging his shoulders. "True…but does he have it because of that genetic drift, or does he have it because of the children you are taking back home?"

"…Some of the children have told me that Michael is the Starseer reborn."

Steve Jones smiled. "What do you think?"

"…I think the prophecy is an old myth which no longer has a place in how we live our lives. I do not believe as they do."

"Children can believe things far easier than we can, true enough."

"And what do you believe?"

"What do I believe?" The archaeologist mused, rubbing at his chin. "I believe he was strong enough to do what nobody else could…when your people needed him most. I believe that he's human, yet he was able to master a power that shouldn't even belong to him. And I believe, above all else, he will be heartbroken when you take Mica from him."

Hirocon shook his head. "I've made my decision. Believe me, no guilt you might add will sway me. Not even my own daughter's pain can change this." He stared at Dr. Jones. "And do you really mean to tell me that Michael, even if he did come with, if I allowed him, against my better judgement and the wisdom of experience, to come to Argonia…That he would not be missed here?"

Dr. Jones had to shake his head in the no. "He would always be missed. By us, by his parents. By all those who are his life beyond this island."

"Then why did you try to change my mind?"

"I wasn't trying to change your mind, your majesty." The archaeologist countered, smiling a bit at the archaic term. "I was just giving you the whole story."

He lifted up a warm thermos and unscrewed the lid. "More coffee?"

* * *

Inside of the hut, Princess Seremichaela Argos lay mute and lost. She had cried away all her tears, leaving only the pain of knowing that she was being torn from her love, and that her father was to blame.

She was older than she looked, she reminded herself. Twenty years older, really, which was how long she had been trapped alone within the stasis cube.

Her hand clenched on the corner of her pillow, and she squeezed her eyes shut. "You were always there to save me before…but you can't save me from this, can you?"

Too awake and hurt to sleep, able to feel Michael also awake on Coralcola, wandering without purpose and confused, Mica lay in her bed and waited for morning.

She was too lost in her thoughts to notice the figure which climbed in through the window, until it shook her shoulder.

The princess let out a gasp, muffled as a hand clasped over her mouth. In the darkness, she turned over and looked up. The hand retreated, and Mica blinked in confusion.

"…Amethyst?"

True enough, it was the girl one year her younger who stood embarrassed in her room. Mica rubbed at her eyes and pulled herself up, shaking her head. "What are you doing here?"

"Helping you." Amethyst whispered, making a motion for the princess to talk more quietly. She sized up the princess with a sad glance. "You dressed back in your royal attire?"

"Tomorrow morning, I'll be taken back to our home…And I'll be the Princess once more." Mica answered with a defeated tone. "Does it truly matter what I wear when my life ends?"

"It does." Amethyst hissed, jabbing a finger towards her. "Because the others and I got together, and we made a promise. We're not going to let your father ruin your life, and we're not going to step over everything we've been through."

Mica's confused look was priceless. "What are you saying?"

"Michael is out there on your favorite stretch of the northern shore right now." Amethyst began, shaking her head. "He'll never see you again, and he's heartbroken. You have to go to him…and I know you want to. You want to be able to say goodbye to him."

"Are you crazy?" Mica hissed. "My father is sitting outside the front door, and if I leave, he'll know!"

"Not if you're sleeping under the covers." Amethyst pointed out, gaining a sly look. "Or rather, not if I am."

It took Mica a few moments to realize what the Argonian noble was getting at. "You mean to take my place? So I can go to Michael?" The girl nodded, and Mica's eyes misted over. "Amethyst…How did you come up with this idea?"

"I didn't." Amethyst smiled, biting her lip. "It was Ezilian's." She hugged the Princess close, and whispered into her ear. "Like I told you…We all care about you. And we care about Mike. We can't give you the rest of your life with him, but we can give you this. One last night, to hold close and warm your heart when we return."

Mica sniffled, hugging the girl back. "Ezilian…I never thought he would…"

"Just remember." Amethyst warned the princess, giving a nervous smile. "Your father may be forcing you to marry him…but he's MY man. Okay?"

"You can have him." Mica giggled, wiping at her eyes. She climbed out of her bed, and Amethyst crawled into it. The Princess smoothed out her clothes, giving Amethyst one last nervous smile. "How do I look?"

Amethyst relaxed in the bed and shook her head. "You look fine. Now get to Mike already. The starlight won't last forever."

Mica's transmitted thought spoke the volumes she didn't trust her voice to say without breaking up. _I'll never forget this, Amethyst. Thank you…for everything._

In a flash, Princess Mica climbed out of the window and vanished into the tropical fall night. Amethyst just smiled and ducked under the covers, glad for what she was doing.

"Go get him, Mica." She whispered. "Good luck."

* * *

"The children will be missed." Dr. Jones noted, turning the thermos upside down and wincing as the last drops fell out and got sucked in by the ground. "The Coralcolans had gotten used to them, and I…" The archaeologist fumbled for a moment, setting the thermos down with a shrug. "Well, Giskard was the best assistant I ever had."

"It is regrettable." Hirocon replied, handing over his empty coffee cup. "But this is just one small island. There is an entire planet which needs us…all of us. And that need outweighs the small amount of pain our departure will bring." His eyes flickered to Dr. Jones. "Even a broken heart."

"Michael's, you mean." Steve pointed out, adjusting his glasses. "He's a wonderful boy, you know. You should give him more credit."

Hirocon shut his eyes, smiling grimly. A faint chuckle made the archaeologist wince. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing too important." The leader of Argonia said, shaking off his reverie. "I was just remembering that Zodus' mother said the same thing about him…so very long ago."

The archaeologist stood up, shaking his head. "Do you truly hate us? Do you hate earth?"

The king glanced up at him, a little taken aback before he shook his head. "I do not hate this planet, and I do not hate humanity. I do not hate. I fear."

"Fear what? That we're all like Zodus? Power hungry? Dangerous?" The professor of ancient history pressed, irate. "We're not, you know. And I'd bet that not all you Argonians are saints either. Come to think of it, Hirocon, there is one last question, after everything I know now and everything that's happened, which still puzzles me."

The king stared, waiting.

"If you truly feared earth and its people so much, why did you send the children here?" Dr. Jones asked coldly. He didn't give Hirocon a chance to answer, bending down and picking up his empty thermos, then strolling off into the night.

Hirocon set his head in his hands. "I don't fear you." He whispered, now to nobody except himself. "I fear the dark reflections I see when we meet. Not yours. Ours."

Saddened, he stood up and slowly opened the door to Mica's hut. It creaked ever so gently, and he peered inside towards the bed.

A lump underneath the covers shifted, rolling about in sleep. Hirocon smiled sadly, and closed the door again. Mica was still there.

He sat back outside and stared up towards the stars, wondering why they no longer gave him the same comfort they always had.

_Tanelia…Tell me I'm doing the right thing._

Inside of the hut, Amethyst smiled to herself and curled in tighter in Mica's bed, carrying the scheme out perfectly.

_Mica…The stars are with you._

* * *

_Coralcola's Northern Shore_

_10:04 P.M._

He'd tried sleeping, but had found that sleep didn't want to come to him. It would have been preferable, given that there was nothing he could do to change things…and nothing to make the night, slipping through his fingers with the last vestiges of Mica's presence in his life, go any faster.

So instead of sitting around in his Uncle's laboratory, Mike Jones had taken a huge blanket from his room, a small thermos full of coffee (As his Uncle had apparently taken the larger one), and his troubled mind out into the open. He more or less had just started walking…His feet had taken him to where he was now.

With the blanket underneath him, the sixteen year old teenager from Seattle leaned up against the old rotten and dried piece of driftwood which he and Mica had stayed out by so many times before. His thermos sat untouched, for the cool fall breeze that washed by his face kept him awake enough.

He looked up at the Southern Cross, transfixed on that particular alignment of stars. Mariners had looked to it for years to guide them, and when things were at their darkest, so had he.

"It's some kind of cruel joke, isn't it?" He said aloud, to nobody and everything in the same moment. "It doesn't happen like this!" The more he thought about it, the more it just made him angry. It didn't stay long; anger dwindled fast in him, because it was an emotion he didn't enjoy having. Especially not now; now when everything was supposed to be fine.

"Everybody knows how it works." Mike whispered, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. "The hero defeats the bad guy. The hero saves the princess, and they live happily ever after."

The stars glimmered above him, but said nothing. "Why me?" Mike demanded. "Why, out of everybody in the Universe, did it have to be me?! This isn't how it's supposed to go! The hero doesn't save the princess just so…"

He clenched his teeth for several moments, and his hands tightened as well. "…Just so she can be taken away from him forever." He finished, sinking back down again.

The lull of the ocean, the gentle roar as the wash came up along the shore and drew itself back, offered what solace it could.

Mike rubbed at his eye again, feeling his voice beginning to crack. "And I don't even get to say goodbye to her."

She was quiet as she approached him. She had always been quiet. Her slender ears, pointed at their long tips, twitched sadly. She had heard every word he'd said.

Somehow, she found the grace to set her hands down at her sides and look regal before she spoke.

"Yes you do, Mike." She said, and the young man who was the hero of her people whirled about in surprise. In the darkness, Mica's eyes glimmered with unshed tears. "Tomorrow, I'm gone…so say it tonight."

He didn't remember who had moved first, but somehow within the time it took a person to draw in a breath, she was back in his arms, clinging tightly to him as he leaned his head down on her shoulder and silently cried all the tears he'd been holding back.

"I don't want you to leave." He whispered, when he could speak again.

Mica swallowed back her own sorrows, stroking his brown hair back. "I don't have a choice." She told him regretfully. "I never did. I told you all along…my life's been written for me."

"No it hasn't." Her hero barked, pulling away to look into her deep eyes. Being able to hold her again had calmed him, but the doubts still wore away. "My life wasn't."

"It was, though." Mica answered, giving a soft little laugh. "The Prophecy…it all came true." She closed her eyes, swallowing the next sentence.

_All except for one last thing._

Her heart raced inside of her chest, a fluttering bird that wanted to die if only to stop the pain.

"Because I saved you? Because I did the right thing?!" Mike demanded. "I would have done that anyway, it's what I was raised to believe in!"

"But nobody else could have done it. Nobody except the Starseer." Mica countered. "And if you're the Starseer, then…"

"I don't want to hear it." Mike's voice cracked, his hands squeezing her shoulders gently. "I'm tired of prophecies. I'm tired of being the 'foretold hero'. All I want to do is live my life, and have you in it." His head bowed low. "But that's not going to happen…is it?"

"I have to go, Mike. They need me. Argonia needs me. I'm the last daughter of Sellarus, and they'll look to me to set things right again."

"I know, it's just…" He began, biting it off.

He pulled his hands back, turning away from her out of shame and walking towards the shore. His hands found their way into the pockets of his jeans, and he looked up at the sky. "I should be happy for you. I'm a terrible guy, keeping you here. You belong home, on Argonia. You never belonged here. It's for the best, right? You get to go home and live your life…I get to live mine. We both move on. They need you. But I'm just some sort of twisted outcast. I'm a danger." The stars of the Southern Cross shimmered above him, silent observers. "I don't belong with your people, do I?"

Mica shut her eyes, and the story of Sellarus and the Starseer of long ago, the true story and the True Prophecy, tore at her heart. "It's all happening again." She whispered, hating destiny for being so cruel. "Just like back then, and now…"

Mike turned down to the surf, managing a weak smile. "I shouldn't be making you feel so down, Mica. I'm sorry. God, I'm sorry for all the wrong things I've ever done."

"And what of all the things you did right?" She asked him, sitting on the piece of driftwood they both knew so well. "You'll never be thanked for them. All you've done is destined to be forgotten and ignored by the people on this planet. Beyond this island, beyond your Uncle, Argonia will be the only place in all the Universe which will know of your heroism. Never regret what's happened."

"Is it worth the sadness I'll feel when you're gone?" Mike asked, finally turning around to look at her.

Mica's ears fell flat against the sides of her head when he said that. "If all of this had never happened, Michael…We'd all still be lost. And I would have never met you."

His feet took him back to her side, dropping him on the driftwood beside the Argonian princess in her full regalia. He looked into her eyes, and when she craned into his hand as he cupped the side of her face and stroked his thumb along her ear, he smiled in spite of everything. "It's worth it." He finally admitted, letting the rightness of those words wash over him.

Mica's lower lip trembled, both because of his touch, and because of something else she couldn't ever truly explain. "I won't forget you." She promised, wanting him to know that much. "Whatever happens to me, to the rest of us, I'll never forget you."

Mike pressed his lips together. "Because I'm the hero to your people?"

"No." Mica countered, lifting his chin with a finger. "Because you're the only man I will ever love."

Mike blinked. "But your father…he said that you and Ezilian…"

"Ezilian has Amethyst now." The Princess interrupted, shaking her head. "It was Ezilian's plan which allowed me to come see you tonight."

In spite of himself, the teenager from Seattle grinned. "You're kidding me. Ezilian set this up?"

"He knew how important it was to you to see me one last time." Mica whispered. "On Argonia, he will be my king…But he will not be my husband. He knows that, and he respects that."

"I guess…I had him pegged wrong all the time." Mike determined, only slightly guilty. He shook it off and turned his thoughts back to Mica, which was not only more important, but far more enjoyable.

He reached in and kissed her, a motion she returned for a few moments before she pulled back, nervous.

"Michael…"

"What's wrong?"

"I…I don't want this to be the end of it."

"So don't let it be." Mike encouraged her. "Learn how to travel across time and space like your dad can. Come back. I'll be waiting here…Every summer, I promise you, I'll be right here. Waiting for you to come back." His hands found hers. "I don't want it to end, either." He told her, his voice deathly quiet. "You're too important to me. And you know how to make it back, don't you?"

The princess blinked, unsure. Mike's captivating grin pushed aside her doubts as he told her the answer.

"Just follow the Southern Cross. As long as you let the stars guide you…you'll always find your way back to me."

"Why is that, Michael?" She asked, needing to hear the answer.

The teenager from Seattle thought it over for a moment. "Love conquers all?"

She snorted at that, and Mike chuckled. "Right, right. I thought that one was kind of stupid too. How about this one then? It's something Bana used to say. 'The stars are with you.'"

Princess Mica laughed at that, brushing another tear away. "You know, she used to say something else too. 'Only the stars know for sure.'"

"Then I'll give you something else to know, when you're gone." Mike countered, kissing the tip of her nose with tender care. "You're the best thing that ever happened to me. I love you, Mica. And even if you weren't the Princess, and I wasn't your hero…I'd still love you."

It must have been the right thing to say, because her eyes glimmered anew, and she pulled him into another kiss…Somehow, he thought, fiercer and more urgent than all the others they'd shared in their short blissful time together.

Slowly, she eased herself off of the driftwood, and onto the blanket, and pulled him down with her. Lost in the moment, Mike went with it, until he realized that her trembling hands were guiding his to places they'd never been.

"Mica…" He gasped, afraid and unsure. He was nobody's fool; he knew where this was leading, and his rationality kicked in. "I don't know if we should…"

Underneath him, biting her lip and smiling that sweet smile she had when she was worried about nothing else, and everything seemed right, Princess Seremichaela Argos shook her head. "I wouldn't have offered if I wasn't sure. The others have risked everything to give me this last chance to say goodbye to you. Tomorrow…This dream ends, and my life begins." The smile vanished, and a pleading stare reached up to him as her left hand caressed the side of his face. "Please, Michael. I can't give you eternity, but I can give you this."

"If you're doing this just for me, you don't have to…"

"I want it." She interrupted, blinking her eyes shut tightly for a long moment. Determination shone when she looked back up at him. "I love you, more than you'll ever know. Let me remember this moment…this endless night with you. Let me feel loved, truly loved, for the first and last time." Her lower lip trembled, hesitating before she sniffled and spoke again. "Please."

His heart broke all over again, but she was there to pick up the pieces. In the quiet, perfect tropical night, Princess and hero abandoned all their titles, all their doubts, and all of their fears of what tomorrow and the rest of their lives would bring.

In that quiet moment, stretched out over an eternity, they lived together.

The stars were with them.

* * *

_Coralcola Island_

_September 27__th__, 1990 A.D._

_9:03 A.M._

There was unmistakable tension in the air as the Argonians prepared to depart. Bakusian sniffled as the Coralcolan family he'd been staying with gave him their best cookware, asking him to use it when he got back home. Rozlyn was little, and didn't remember much about Argonia. Afraid, she clung to Amethyst's leg, being forced to rely on the more accurate memories of her sister.

Dr. Jones held out a bookbag towards Giskard, giving the studious and always serious youth a knowing smile. "Some light reading from my library. It's not much…The collected works of Charles Dickens, a substandard textbook on earth's world history, a reference guide to earth mythology and folklore, a copy of…"

"It's enough." The boy interrupted, cracking an honest smile as he slung the backpack over his shoulders. "I just wish there's something I could give you."

"You taught me a dead language." Dr. Jones reminded the boy, folding his hands. "That, and all the reference notes both here and in Seattle are more than enough. Be well, Giskard Rorth…never stop learning."

Ezilian stood off to the side by King Hirocon, silently observing the farewells and goodbyes. The middle-aged ruler of all Argonia pursed his lips, sizing up the youth who was betrothed to his daughter.

"Why aren't you saying farewell like the others?"

Ezilian folded his arms, and offered the king a wan smile. "There's nobody here to say goodbye to. Everybody I care about is coming with."

"You don't even wish to say goodbye to Michael Jones?" Hirocon pressed, curious. Ezilian's eyes flickered towards the 'hero of Argonia', standing over by Marlin. Mike seemed sad…but curiously optimistic, for a reason the king could not fathom.

Ezilian kept his grin to himself and shook his head. "I've done enough for him. There's nothing else to be said." That much, at least, was the truth.

Marlin fingered the baseball that Mike had given him. "I'll try not to lose it." He joked. The baseball pitcher nodded in approval, grinning.

"Southpaw. You'll do fine. And you'll keep practicing, right?"

"The way I figure it, Argonia needs a new game." Marlin smiled, catching the sewn sphere after tossing it up in the air. "I told you we had a game like baseball back home…but believe me, I think your 'pasttime' blows ours out of the water. I may not be the most important noble, but if they're going to remember the name Dellin, it'll be because I got them to start playing baseball."

"Good luck." Mike exhaled, holding out his hand. "And keep smiling, Marlin. It's what I've always liked most about you."

In the midst of the chaos, Princess Mica slipped soundlessly out of Bana Omoy's hut, quiet and regal as she walked into the village clearing.

Dr. Jones, who stood beside the Island Chief at the far side, wasn't at all surprised to see the girl walk towards Michael. They fell into each other's arms again, hugging tightly before he laid a tender kiss across her brow. She arched her head up and pulled him down for a deeper kiss, longing and fraught with memories.

She pulled back, holding his hands in hers. "So this is it then." He commented, not really sure what to say.

The Princess bit her lip. "Never forget me."

"I could never forget you."

Mica was about to speak when she felt her father's watchful gaze fall over them. "Hurry, Mica. I'll need your help for the transference…Taking us all will be draining as it is!" He called out, wishing to shorten the sorrowful farewell as much as possible.

"Every summer." Mike promised, his sentences coming out jumbled and confused as their last moments faded into dust. "I'll be right here. Waiting."

Her eyes misted over a second time, but she did not cry. Nor was she sad.

There was a happiness in Mica that Mike couldn't place, which nobody who knew of the tragedy of their doomed love could place. In spite of all which was wrong, she smiled and brushed her fingers along the side of his face.

"There was one last part to the Prophecy I never told anyone." She whispered, drawing him close so she could speak directly into his ear. "It's how I know you're the Starseer…and how I know that I truly am the last daughter of Sellarus."

A confused Mike stood there, holding her close and pressing his hands against the glossy fabric of her royal vestments.

"The Prophecy said that the Starseer reborn would find the reincarnation of Sellarus…and they would bring new life to Argonia."

She pulled away from him, a certain knowing in her eyes which her love did not share. Mike blinked, not knowing what exactly to think…

She pushed his thoughts aside with one last kiss. "I'll always remember." She told him softly, and then her hair whirled about her, and she was walking towards the others.

"Go in peace." Hapo Omoy announced solemnly, lifting his hand in some kind of prayer. "May the Southern Cross watch over all of you in your journey."

Hirocon and the others nodded with assorted looks; some sad, some excited, some unsure, and Hirocon himself steadfastly unreadable.

Mica's curious knowing smile stayed locked on to Mike, even as she brushed aside her last tear, and deliberately let it fall from her finger to the ground.

Hirocon growled a low incantation, a more deliberate, more controlled chant which caused all the Argonians to glow. Mica closed her eyes, as did Ezilian, and they began to focus and channel their own powers into the king.

In a flash of light, the eight Argonians became eight beams of luminescent energy, which shot off out and away, across the sea and up into the sky, vanishing in seconds.

Mike closed his eyes, not moving, not really doing anything until his uncle walked up to him and set his hand on his nephew's shoulder.

"Come on, Mike." Dr. Jones said, offering a sympathetic smile. "We've our own journey to take."

"So that's it then, is it?" Mike asked. "All of this…over and done. The Argonians…Mica…nothing but a memory now?"

"As perhaps it should be." Steve Jones exhaled. "Hirocon seemed to think that way. But he could have been wrong."

"I won't forget about her." Mike vowed, a fire within glowing red hot.

His relative, always and forevermore his closest friend and advisor, nodded his head with a knowing smile.

"Then don't." He answered.

Mike still didn't move, though. He didn't move until a full minute had passed…

When he could no longer feel Mica's presence anywhere about or remotely close to earth.

She…they…were gone.

Mike kept his promise in his heart.

He never forgot.

* * *

_The Pacific Ocean_

_September 30__th__, 1990 A.D._

_1:15 P.M. (Mountain Standard Time)_

The toughest part about getting through customs at Hawaii was trying to convince the airport security that a katana was carry-on luggage. It was dicey for a while, until Mike revealed that the blade itself was broken. They let him on with it after that; after all, a broken sword was really just an ornamental fixture.

Mike hadn't really said much since they'd left Coralcola, a fact that his uncle understood. The boy hadn't even looked back towards the tropical island when the shuttling helicopter had lifted them from paradise to take them to reality. Now over open ocean, it seemed that staring out the window was all the boy could do.

"You did a good thing." Dr. Jones reminded him, patting his nephew on the shoulder. "A far better thing than most ever get the chance to."

"I know." Mike answered, using the most words he'd uttered all day. "It doesn't change the fact they're gone forever."

"You know, they're not really gone." Dr. Jones thought aloud. "They're far away, but as long as you remember them, they're still with you."

"If you say so." Mike said, giving his Uncle a weak smile. "I'll…I'll get over it. I kind of have to. Life goes on, right?"

"Think of it like this." Steve Jones proposed, now and forever trying to put a spin on his nephew's predicament. "Some heroes never get to go back to a normal life. This is your chance to do that."

"And what if I don't want a normal life?" Mike pressed. "What if I liked how things were?"

The archaeologist sighed, and adjusted his glasses. "Does it matter?" He asked. "The secret has to stay with us, Mike. Even though we no longer have to protect them, nobody will ever understand what took place. Nobody could."

"That's going to screw up your findings somewhat, isn't it?" Mike countered. "Those old ruins and their history…"

"Not exactly." Dr. Jones smiled. "You can spin things in certain ways, and leave nobody the wiser if they're only looking to verify one truth. My work won't be for nothing. But I'm not worried about me. I'm worried about you, Mike."

The boy from Seattle, returning home with his uncle, stared up to the roof of their airliner's cabin. "Is it wrong to love somebody, even after they're gone, and to never love again?"

The question was unexpected, and the archaeologist reached for his complimentary bag of airline peanuts. They might have been excessively salty, but they gave him enough of a diversion to think of an answer.

"Well…" He began, fumbling with the foil wrapper and grunting, "No, it's not wrong, I think." The package exploded open, and peanuts flew everywhere, much to the doctor's chagrin. "It doesn't happen that often these days…It's almost a kind of storybook love, you know? No, there's nothing wrong with it, Mike. I…I think I can envy you for it. But it's not an easy road. You still have so much of your life ahead of you, to cut yourself off now…"

"I didn't ask if it was easy, Uncle Steve." Mike interrupted, shaking his head. "No. I'll never love again."

The archaeologist picked up the only peanut still in his pouch, offering his nephew a weak smile. "Your parents won't understand that, you know."

"There's a lot of things my parents won't understand." Mike chuckled, and he went back to staring out the window.

A few seconds passed with Steve Jones chewing on his lone peanut thoughtfully before he had to speak again. "Just what is so interesting out that window?"

"I was just thinking to myself…We're above the equator, right?"

"Now we are. We're on our way back to Seattle, after all."

"And that means…the Southern Cross won't be in the sky when night comes."

The archaeologist pursed his lips. "Just what is so important about that constellation, anyhow?"

"I told her…it would show her the way home." Mike answered, not needing to say who the 'she' was. "It just can't show me the way."

Steve Jones handed his empty peanuts bag to a passing stewardess, and tapped his nephew on the shoulder. "Now that they're gone…do you still want to come back to Coralcola next summer?"

The 'hero of Argonia' still looked out the window, his deepest thoughts, now and forever, someplace other than the world he lived in.

"Yes." He whispered. "Every summer. From now, until…"

His voice trailed off into nothingness, and his uncle filled in the space.

"Until when?"

Michael didn't smile as he kept the rest of the sentence to himself. It was too precious a thing to betray, even to his uncle, who had been with him through the best and worst of his life in all the short months that had fallen between May and September of one eventful year.

He had changed, perhaps not completely for the better. In the end, all he'd done, all he had become would have to be kept in the dark. Nobody could know, and nobody could hope to understand it. It made him want to laugh, albeit darkly.

As the bird of steel and flames roared through the skies above earth's greatest ocean, Mike pictured, in his mind, what might happen.

It came so quickly to him, though, it felt as a flash of insight. The power within him, his own Shilivre, seemed to resonate with it, making the hero of Argonia think for a moment it hadn't been an errant thought, but a rightful prediction.

Every summer, he would return to Coralcola, and wait for her.

Every summer, he would leave Coralcola…alone. He was reminded of the strange dream he'd had, back during the crisis with Zodus, of the Starseer who had been forced by his own visions to leave his love behind, and spend his life in solitude.

_Some stories shouldn't repeat themselves._ He thought, and wished it to be so.

In that, though, there was no silent reassurance. The endless tropical night of his adventure, of his dreams, was over.

It was day.

The stars were not with him.


	9. Epilogue: Sentinel of the Cross

_**STARTROPICS: FOLLOW THE SOUTHERN CROSS**_

By Eric T. Lawson

**EPILOGUE: SENTINEL OF THE CROSS**

"_Many years will pass. Your people will cover the planet, and be as the stars, even venturing out into them, into the abyss. But this tranquility will not last, and doom will come again. In your people's darkest hour, I will return. I will not be as I am now, but you will know me by the weapon I hold and the courage in my eyes. You, Sellarus…will be reborn, the last daughter of your line, and I will come to you in that new form. Our love will be adored by the stars, yet pitied…For it will bring your death. Together, we will bring new life to your world. That is my promise."_

The Complete Prophecy of the Starseer

* * *

_Coralcola Island_

_July 27__th__, 1996_

Time had no effect on the islands of the Southern Cross; six years had passed in the outside world. The United States had fought the Gulf War, unknowingly pulling themselves into a longer and larger conflict than any could anticipate. A saxophone player and philanderer was President. Telecommunications were entering into their prime, with the beginnings of a thing called the internet.

As the helicopter from Hawaii lifted off of the ground and took off into the northeast, Michael D. Jones thought to himself, with a gentle smile, that none of that mattered.

The sun beat down on him, but with the tropical sea breeze blowing through his short brown hair, it didn't seem so bad. He'd trimmed it back, and it no longer had the same wavy curl in the front that it once had. He'd packed light, unlike his uncle, who had three steamer chests, empty for the moment, ready to go.

"Sun so bright it hurts your eyes to look at it…" Mike mused, recollecting a line from the movie Field of Dreams.

His Uncle Steve caught the reference and chuckled. "Lord, you haven't played that game since you graduated from high school, and you're still obsessed with the culture?"

"You know what they say, doc." Mike countered, scratching at his chin. "It doesn't matter how much time passes. You never forget the game." He drew in a long breath, letting himself feel invigorated. "I'd forgotten how much cleaner it smells out here."

"It would be, yes." Dr. Jones agreed, hefting two of the steamer trunks towards Mike. "Now be a sport and help me with these things. You're my research assistant, after all."

"Right." Mike snorted, rolling his eyes as he picked up one in each hand. "For which I'm being paid a grand stipend of absolutely squat."

"Although you are getting the internship you need to finish up your Master's degree in archaeology." His uncle countered. "Not many people who go into the field can say they have a famous uncle helping them out."

"Not many people who go into the field of archaeology can blow up cars by looking at them funny, either." Mike added, with a visible amount of mirth. "As if I'd ever feel the need to."

"We don't have much time for dalliance, I remind you." Dr. Jones pointed out. "Tomorrow, a seaplane from Australia will be arriving to pick us up, and we'll need to have my laboratory cleaned out by then."

Even at the southern end of the island where the helipad was, the laboratory of Dr. Stephen Jones, world-renowned archaeologist was visible. Like it always had, it jutted out from the northern end of the island, along the dropping peninsula. Mike found himself staring at it, until his uncle, not watching where he was going, ran into him.

"Woah, now! Mike, you stopped walking."

"Sorry, Uncle Steve." Mike apologized, shaking it off and trudging in a westwards direction again with the empty steamer trunks dragging in the grass behind him. "I just…got lost in thought again."

"Yes, you do have a habit of doing that."

"…I just can't believe it's over." Mike pointed out glumly. "You're finally leaving Coralcola…What's going to happen to the lab after you leave?"

"Well, since it was constructed with funds from a grant by the National Geographic Institute, ownership will revert back to them. They'll keep it in good order, and use it as a staging point for other expeditions in the area. If you're worried, though, I have their reassurance that beyond the laboratory, the islands of the Southern Cross will be preserved as they are. No attempt will be made to alter their culture any further."

"Oh, I wasn't worried about that." Mike chuckled. "I was actually wondering what they were going to do with that side-scanning electron microscope you have tucked away in there. Not to mention Sub-C…and R.O.B."

"Aah, R.O.B." Dr. Jones laughed aloud. "My, I haven't thought of him in ages. For a nagivational automaton, he certainly developed his own set of quirks, didn't he?"

"Maybe those future thinkers are right." Mike suggested. "It might be fully thinking robots aren't too far around the corner."

They plodded on towards Coralcola Village, well aware that their arrival would be cause for a celebration. Chief Omoy had gotten married two years before, and now had a little daughter he'd named after his sister; Bana Omoy. If all signs pointed correctly, the Island Chief had spawned the next shaman.

One particular habit of Mike's that he'd never been able to break in his long years was the empty stare he gave off when he was lost in thought. Anybody who knew him well enough could place it, and from there, figure out that something was bothering him.

Ten seconds into his daydreaming, his uncle cleared his throat. "So what were you thinking about now?"

"Just…things." His nephew answered feebly.

Steve didn't need the power of the mind like his nephew had to understand how terrible of an answer that was.

"Just why did you decide to come with me?"

"Hm?"

"On this next trip of mine. You knew perfectly well we'd be making a stopover at Coralcola. You haven't wanted to come back here since you were nineteen. Why now?"

The question hit home, because Mike winced. It was an open sore, a wound he'd never really gotten over. Most of the time, he didn't let it bother him. Life, after all, went on after Coralcola, after the Argonians.

"You know, there were some days I tried to convince myself that it wasn't real." Mike spoke up, softly enough his uncle had to strain to hear. "It was easier that way. But this gift of mine, these psychic abilities…made it hard to forget."

"Your Shilivre?" Dr. Jones prodded, and Mike's eyes flickered for a moment.

"Words. Just words." He kept the silence after that, but his uncle had no intention of letting Mike walk away from his past again.

"When the Argonians left, and we were on the plane home, I asked you if you still wanted to come here. You said yes, remember?"

Mike did remember, of course. He just didn't like to talk about it.

"You told me you wanted to come back here every summer, until…" He let his voice trail off, waiting for Mike to fill in the blank. The novice archaeologist never did, though, as stubborn as ever.

"You were waiting for her." Dr. Jones surmised. Mike blinked a few times, not giving much of a reaction…but enough of it had been there to confirm his relatives' guess. "Three summers you spent here, not doing much of anything…and then, one summer, you said no, and stayed home. It was because she never came, wasn't it?"

Mike stopped his walk, setting the empty steamer trunks on the ground as he turned to address his uncle. In his adulthood, he towered three inches above the stout man with glasses. "You're fishing, Uncle Steve. Just stop it." His voice may have been quiet, but the ice in them stung as bad as hot words would have. "I don't regret the choices I've made…and I don't regret moving on. It's what you told me to do, after all. There's no sense in waiting for dreams, when the world keeps on spinning without you. So she didn't come. Fine. They have their planet to live on and recover. Their own world to live in."

A fire burning in his eyes, Mike picked up the empty trunks and started walking again.

"I have mine."

Even with the extra weight, Michael Jones easily outpaced his older, less athletic uncle. It suited the old man well enough, for he carried a heavy heart as he watched his nephew walk on.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, thinking for one long moment how different things would be if he'd never invited Mike to spend that one fateful summer with him long ago. "I wish I could give you your dreams."

Mike was already long ahead of him, though, fully dedicated to his task. Able to read his nephew's mannerisms from a distance, Dr. Jones noted they'd have a small farewell at best for the islanders.

The boy who had once saved a people from extinction now spent all his time doing his best not to remember.

The man he had become had all the power and the weight of his experience…and none of the rewards. Small wonder he held no dreams anymore.

That was the greatest tragedy of all.

* * *

_The most incredible, most inspiring stories are also the ones that create the most incredulity. It is why legends are just that...legends. It is why so much of the past is rationalized, sanitized. They are the texts by which we lull ourselves to sleep and convince our weary spirits that there's something of dreams left in the world we wander.  
I'm 22 now. I graduated from the University of Chicago with a degree in investigative history in May of this year. Simply put, I have followed in the footsteps of my Uncle Steve; I'm an archaeologist, a researcher of the past who prefers a battlefield not of the library, or of books, but the musty world beneath us.  
My classmates, my teachers...they all struggle with the nature of the world, of human civilization, countless centuries before. But their quest is not mine._

In an age when personal computers had become the accepted norm, and would only increase, Mike still preferred the feel of a pad of paper underneath his hand, and the weight of a mechanical pencil in his grip. Back within his old room in the laboratory, he took a rest after dinner, finally having the time to put things into perspective.

Everything that Uncle Steve needed was packed in his steamer trunks. The rest was stored in archives for later use…And the most precious materials, the ones relevant to the Argonians and that period of history that needed to become nonexistent were locked, safely stored away in the hidden underground alcove which Sub-C had used as its secret harbor for so long. The cavern had never been public knowledge; Uncle Steve had found it only because of Hapo Omoy's assistance, and with the entrance from above sealed off, the secrets of the Argonian refugees would be buried…like Rellini-Uros…beneath the islands of the Southern Cross. He thought about that for only a moment before his pencil lead dashed across the page again, charting out the rest of his journal entry._  
_

_Six years ago, I saw something greater. And I was part of a miracle.  
But they'd never believe me. Uncle Steve...even he had to temper his findings. Explaining that the ruins at Howduyadocola, before they became unstable and collapsed, presented significant evidence of the same Polynesian culture that would give rise to the Easter Island population and the seafaring nomads won him acclaim, prestige, and further government grants.  
But he could not tell them of the Argonians. He could not tell them of the dramatic role of a far distant civilization in guiding our development. Such is the stuff of science fiction, of nonsense. It is the substance of hacks and crackpots. And Dr. Jones is neither._

_I saved them. The Argonians...I saved them from their self-proclaimed nemesis long ago. I would do so again. But Zoda is dead. Finally. No more clones. The last of them...Fall of 1990. The return of Hirocon, presumed dead and lost was my last great act as their hero. Even now...with all the power I hold, with my understanding of Shilivre, the might it possesses, I cannot bring myself to believe that I am the Starseer.  
_

He paused again, breaking the stream of consciousness. The next part, his next thoughts, hurt the worst to write down. But the pain was less now. The wound might never heal, but the years had let it scab over. He drew in one last breath, finding the strength to continue on.

_  
I think about Mica the most...Her laugh. Her smile. Her smell. The taste of her lips. They say you never forget your first love.  
Mica is my only love. Princess...Princess Seremichaela Argos. But she's gone now. They're all gone. When Hirocon appeared out of the Tetrads I had fought tooth and nail for through the centuries of earth's past, he came with a plan. To restore Argonia to its former glory. To rebuild. True, Zoda's strike had been a mass genocide. But Hirocon had faith in his people, in their resiliency. He banked on survivors. Hirocon was so much stronger than the rest of them, strong enough to reach out to his planet light years away. They were going home._

_Mica was quiet at that news. Despondent. Torn. Hirocon knew it, but he needed her. She was the only true heir to the legacy of Sellarus. Without her, the Argonian race would fail. She had to leave. And when she did...she took my heart with her.  
I remember what she told me, when she was in my embrace for the last time before she joined the others to leave. "There is one part to the Prophecy I haven't told you, Mike. The Starseer...he promised he would bring new life to Argonia." There was something in her sad smile. Something she couldn't say telepathically. Something she couldn't say aloud. Something._

_Then they left. And here I am._

_After I graduated, I became the field assistant for my Uncle. It's a role that Giskard would be proud to have, if he were still here. I struggle at times, and Steve's a difficult, but well-intentioned taskmaster. Still, he knows the look in my eyes. The distance. The faraway gaze._

_I am here, but my thoughts are not. My heart is not. And maybe I'm still waiting for something. I don't know. I'm on Coralcola again right now; we're cleaning up Uncle Steve's laboratory, because he's moving to a new facility in Australia. He's opted to do some studies on the local aborigine populations there. It's strange to be back here.  
Nowhere else in the world feels as different as this does. Nowhere else...feels as magical. It's painful to be here. Too many memories. Too many feelings I've worked long and hard to keep bottled up._

_She's not here. She'll never come back. It was a wild adventure...but that time has come and gone, and I have to move on. I have to. But I can't. I don't want to. I don't want to forget.  
I never want to forget Mica._

_That's another thing about stories and legends...about why my story, if you can truly call it that, doesn't belong in the pantheon.  
All true stories have happy endings.  
Mine is only unresolved emptiness._

His mechanical pencil pulled back, and he stared down at the page with a distant sort of bitterness. If he'd learned one thing about his powers, it was that strong emotions could cause them to flare up. It had taken him a while to understand that, and to get around it. He became better, after a time, at hiding his unique gift than using it. It was necessary to live in his world, even if it meant denying parts of himself he had taken for granted for so long.

It was why he had given up baseball. It was why he'd turned into such a scholar. Impartiality and careful study were vocations that fit it. Playing baseball professionally, which had been one of his youthful ambitions, ended when he realized that one flareup would be the end of everything.

That mental restraint, however, had exacted a price. Years ago, reading those words would have torn him apart. Now there was just a weary sort of resignation.

But if he was to break from that shell…if he was to, for a moment, remember who he truly was, and cut loose, then it was best to do it here.

On Coralcola, there was still, even if it was a lie, the shadow of something greater than the life he lived. Here, the power he carried didn't have to stay dormant.

Here…as much as he might deny it…He was still a hero.

Long moments passed before his right hand snapped the journal closed, and he walked out towards the living room. Dr. Jones was relaxing in his favorite chair, glancing down at the most recent Tom Clancy thriller through his glasses. The aged archaeologist blinked a few times as he looked up. "Michael? Is something wrong?"

"I was going to take a walk." His nephew answered, after a pause.

"Well, don't stay out too late." Dr. Jones reminded him. "That seaplane will be here pretty early. But go on, then. Do what you need to."

"Do what I need to?" Mike repeated questioningly. Steve Jones smiled, nudging his glasses down just enough to stare over the tops of them.

"Make your peace. I'll be here when you get back. Whenever that is."

Mike's eyes softened. "Thanks, doc." He wandered out the front door, vanishing into the tropical night.

Dr. Jones flipped another page in his book, giving his head a shake. "You're more like me than you know, nephew." He left it at that, and moved on.

* * *

_Coralcola Island_

_The North Shore_

_July 27__th__, 1996, 9:57 P.M._

Tempered hands ran along the piece of driftwood he knew so well. The elements had finally begun to wear it down, and the edges were chipped away. He doubted it would still support his weight if he sat down, so he didn't test it.

"Why did I come here?" He muttered, shaking his head. "There was no reason for me to. I could have just as easily taken the flight to Sydney and waited for Uncle Steve."

_Maybe because you wanted to come here_, that nagging voice in the back of his head suggested. Mike let out a derisive snort.

"Like I'd want to come back here. There's too many memories. Too many regrets. Too much to be bitter about."

_But you're not mad at her. No, you never could be mad at her. There were only two things you ever felt for her, weren't there?_

Biting his tongue, Mike wandered closer to the shore, letting the surf wash over his bare feet.

_Worry…and love._

He couldn't deny it. The voice in his head, that conscience men often wrote about, was dead on. Sure, there were days he wondered how Marlin was doing, or what Giskard was researching next…but for the most part, if he ever thought of them, he thought of her.

He looked up to the Southern Cross, and felt all the walls the years had made inside of him begin to crumble. "I didn't forget about you." He began softly. The stars shimmered above him, offering no reply. "I waited for you. For three years, I waited for you. I don't know what I was thinking…Just crazy, I guess. Crazy, and in love." He looked down to his palm, staring down at the lines within it. "Still am. Always will be. I don't regret it. And it's not easy, but…"

A lump swelled in his throat, and he swallowed it down, destroying the last of his rage. "I don't blame you." He let it linger in the air, savoring the ring of it.

_It's not your fault._

He laughed, if only because he'd waited so long for clarity that its sudden appearance seemed comical. "I still wonder about you all the time, as much as I try to convince myself I should move on. Are you still alive? Is Argonia rebuilt? How are the others? And will you ever be able to come back?" In the starlight, his blue eyes shimmered. "Would you…even want to come back?"

He tore his sight from the stars, looking out over the waves again. "You're lucky, you know." He continued, murmuring. "There's nothing on Argonia that could even possibly remind you of me. But everywhere I look, I always end up seeing you. I didn't forget about you, because I couldn't. But…you've probably forgotten about me. And that makes you luckier than you'll ever know. You were able to move on."

Mike tucked his hands into his pockets. "I suppose that's why I came here. I just wanted to tell you that. Even if you'd never hear it, you deserved the truth. I'm saying goodbye, Mica. I won't ever be coming back to Coralcola again. So stay on Argonia. Stay where you need to be. Stay where you're loved. And for my sake…live. That's the only thing that matters."

The graduate from Seattle, an archaeologist in the making, gave one last sad smile to the stars. "I told you to follow the Southern Cross. You don't have to anymore now. Goodbye, Mica. Goodbye…and farewell."

He was so lost in himself, Michael Jones didn't notice the red-haired woman in a faded patterned red dress walk up and stand beside the driftwood behind him. He didn't hear her footsteps, or pick up her scent, or sense her.

"You can't say goodbye, Michael…" She said, so faintly that he thought at first, the voice was a hallucination. In the night, her eyes shimmered. "I never got to say hello again."

His heart skipped a beat, and he turned around. There she stood, in the red dress that Bana Omoy had given her long ago…But it couldn't be the same dress. She had grown. All trace of her girlish attractiveness had been replaced with a woman's beauty. But it was still her same long dark red hair that blew in the tropical breeze, and it was still her quavering smile he stared at.

"Tell me you're a dream." He uttered, thinking as his eyes began to blur that surely, SURELY, this was not real. He'd waited for so long, his mind must have produced a hallucination of her.

The vision of the girl…woman…he'd promised his heart to years before walked towards him, her sunfaded red dress bouncing around her ankles in its soft sway. She walked straight up to him, and lifted a hand to caress the side of his face. "This is no dream." She promised him. "I'm really here."

Instinct made Michael pull her against him, and in that first hungry kiss, he realized she truly was.

Eventually, he had to ask the question which had bothered him for so long. "Why did you never come back?"

Mica nervously folded her hands down in front of her, falling back into Mike with every shared breath. "I…I wanted to. But that first summer after we left, there were complications. And then the year after that, there was too much to do on Argonia. And the year after that…" She bowed her head low. "Maybe it got easier to fall back on excuses. The more years that passed, the more I didn't want to come back, just because it got harder to think about it. What I'd say to you. What you'd say to me." Her eyes began to mist up at the end. "I was afraid you would have changed, or that maybe I had, and that the love we shared didn't exist anymore."

Michael Jones thought about it for a long moment, then pushed her hair back to look at her. "I never stopped loving you. I tried not to think about it some days, because it hurt too much. I tried to move on. I couldn't. So you never had to worry about that, Mica. You told me to never forget you, and I didn't."

Her lip quivered, and Mike gave her a reassuring smile. "Now what's wrong?"

"I don't know what to say next." She stammered. "I never thought…I'd get to this point."

Mike's hand went down from her face to her hand, and their fingers blended together. "Walk with me." He asked, as gentle as she had always known he could be. "We'll figure out what to talk about along the way."

* * *

"Most of Argonia's infrastructure was destroyed by Zoda's attack twenty-six years ago." Mica began, after Mike asked how things were at home. "But my father was right; the Argonian people survived. They hid in the caverns beneath the surface, like our ancestors did when the Star Devils attacked. When we returned, they were ten years into the process of reconstruction. They'd even created a Council of Elders as their new government."

Mike frowned, recalling his own studies of history. "I imagine that they weren't too keen on having the monarchy back."

"It was a sign of the old times…and there were some problems." Mica answered cautiously. She glanced up to the night sky as they walked on. "The Council is still in power, and my family's role has been downplayed. My father did the smart thing by accepting the decision. The royal family's more of a figurehead anymore; we don't hold any governmental power, but people still look to us for support and guidance all the same."

"The power of Sellarus' line, right?" Mike prodded, and Mica seemed to tense up for a moment before nodding in agreement.

"Just so. The nobility was removed as well. Argonia's become a constitutional monarchy, I think you'd call it. We needed every living soul to set things back. But our return's helped matters; a great deal of Shilivre was limited to the noble families, and regaining the royal family and the other children restored that gift. Using our strength, we've been able to speed up the process of recovery." She smiled and shook her head. "Another two years is all we need to make Argonia whole again."

"That's good."

"…So what about you, hero?" Mica asked, teasing him with the name. "What have you been doing these last six years?"

"I finished high school, then I went on to College."

"Playing baseball?"

"No, and that's what you're going to think is funny." Mike began hesitantly. "I…Actually ended up studying history and archaeology. I'm working for my uncle now."

Mica giggled. "You're digging through the dirt these days?"

"It's not always glamorous, but it's honest." Mike shrugged. "And while it's not always glamorous…maybe, in my subconscious, I'm just trying to figure out how far the Starseekers spread across earth before Rellini-Uros was abandoned."

"What else? Do you still use your Shilivre?"

The boy shook his head quickly at that. "I've been tempted to…but it would raise too many questions. For the same reason that my Uncle Steve and I have kept your existence a secret, I've had to keep those powers in check as well. As far as anybody cares to know, I'm just a history fanatic who used to play baseball."

"You're still a hero to us, you know."

"I know." Mike agreed, squeezing her hand again. "And the others…How's Marlin holding up?"

"He's been dating one of the Argonian survivors for a while now. His jokes are just as bad, but he's almost entirely responsible for the reconstruction in the eastern hemisphere. He had a leader's heart in him…it just took you, and the confidence you gave him, to bring it out."

"And Bakusian?"

"Bakusian kept to himself, for the most part." She added. "He still cooks. He opened up a restaurant in the capital city three years ago. It does well for itself."

"What's Giskard doing these days?"

"The royal archivists were all killed a long time ago. He's taken their place, trying to put together all the documents and lore our people thought was lost. He's made one important addition to the archives; The Starseeker's presence on Earth has been restored in the logs." That made Mike smile.

"Rozlyn?"

"She grew up. Having her around eased the transition of the other Argonians regaining us. She's become a symbol of cooperation; a noble who doesn't want to be one. She's almost thirteen now, you know? The sad thing is she's started to notice boys…and there are plenty who wouldn't mind getting to know 'Miss Rozyln' a little bit better."

"I'm glad to hear that they're all doing all right." Mike managed, giving his lost love a weak smile. Mica, however, knew better.

_You never asked about Amethyst or Ezilian,_ she thought to him.

"…I didn't want to." Mike managed. "Your father reinstated your betrothal. You're his wife now, and…"

"I'm not." Mica stated flatly, and Mike did a double take. The princess held out her hand. "Do you see a ring on it?" A quick examination forced him to shake his head. "Ezilian and I got divorced a year after we returned to Argonia…He's with Amethyst now, and they're the happier for it." She smiled at him. "Come on. If I was truly a married woman, do you think I would have kissed you like that?"

Blushing, Mike shook his head again. "But…So you're by yourself?"

There was a strange look in her eyes, not a joking expression, but one which withheld something all the same. "I'm not alone, if you're thinking that."

Michael Jones came to a stop along the shore and pulled his hand back, folding his arms. "Well, we've covered what I've done in the last six years, and what you and the others have been up to. There's just one question left, Mica."

She faced him straight on, knowing exactly what he was going to say.

"…Why did you come back now?" Mike pressed, biting his lip. "Not that I'm not thrilled to see you again, but…Why wait six years?"

Mica closed her eyes for a long moment. "Somebody else wanted to come with me when I met you. Somebody else born on Argonia."

Puzzled, Mike shook his head. "Why did they have to wait six years?"

"To be honest, they only waited for five." Mica answered, giving him another warm smile. "That first summer, she had only just been born."

Mike felt a tug on his blue jeans, and he looked down to see a child, only five years old, looking up at him.

She wore blue trousers and a white shirt…Her hair was a startling dark red. But it was the girl's eyes which made his breath catch.

Blue eyes stared back at him.

His eyes.

"My daughter…Rosella Michelle Argos." Mica said, providing the answer Mike had known instantly.

"My daughter." He breathed. Rosella Argos looked up to him, beaming, and hugged his leg tight.

"Daddy." His fingers traced through her hair, marveling at it. He looked up to Mica, opening and closing his mouth a few times before he could speak.

"How come you never told me?" His voice cracked as he spoke.

Mica looked hurt for a moment. "I didn't…I didn't think you'd understand. It was my choice. The Prophecy, everything had come true except for that, and it wasn't until after…I realized we'd fulfilled it all."

"If I had known I had a daughter, I would have…"

"What would you have been able to do?" Mica accused him. "You were here on Earth. I was on Argonia! Even if I had told you…How would you have gotten to us?"

"I would have found a way." Michael promised her, picking Rosella up and cradling his little girl against him. "If I'd known, I would have done everything in my power to get to you."

Mica's eyes glimmered faintly again. "I was afraid. I was afraid that you couldn't find a way to do it, so I kept it to myself. I trained under my father, convinced him to teach me the same powers to travel through time and space. But I was afraid to come back."

"Mommy thought you'd be mad at her." Rosella explained, in that matter-of-fact way Rozlyn used to have.

Mike hugged his daughter close. "I could never be mad at your mom, Rosella. I love her too much." Mike smiled at her. "God, Mica, she's beautiful."

"She has your fire." Mica agreed quietly. "I'm sorry, Michael. My father…" She bit her lip for a moment before speaking. "My father's dead."

That caught Michael off his guard. "…What?"

"It was a stroke. It happened so suddenly, none of us saw it coming." Mica explained sadly. "That was a week ago. But at least before he died…Ezilian and I told him the truth. That Rosella was your daughter. I expected him to be furious, because…"

"…Because Zodus was half-human as well." Mike realized. He looked down at Rosella, and the little girl gave him a blank stare and hugged tighter to his neck. "But he wasn't mad?"

"No." Mica exhaled, and the last great weight lifted from her shoulders. "Rosella has Shilivre…she's stronger in it than I am, but she has a strong sense of courage. Yours. My father wasn't angry. That's what's changed, Michael. My father is dead. I'm the queen…and Rosella is the princess now. She wanted to come back to see you, and to ask you a question."

Rosella rubbed at her eyes. "Will you come back, daddy?" She sniffled. "I want mommy to be happy again."

Michael D. Jones smiled the brightest he had in years, and started to cry himself as he held her tight. "What about you, Mica? Do you want me to come?"

The Queen of Argonia, twenty-two years old, held an arm against her side. "I love you…and I'm tired of living without you. The request is from both of us. Please, hero…Come home with us. Rosella wants her father…and I need you just as much."

Mike held out his other arm, and Mica rushed into it. Together, the family shared their first embrace, and Mike let out a relieved laugh.

"Of course I'll come with you."

"Isn't there anything that you need to do here first? Details to wrap up? Goodbyes to…"

"I think I can handle those." A new voice spoke up, and they all turned to look at Dr. Stephen Jones, older, balder, but just as cheerful, smiling at them through his glasses. "Michael…I don't believe it. I suppose you will get your dream after all." He adjusted his spectacles. "I'm not saying your disappearance won't cause some alarm…I think the best route to take is to tell everyone you decided to stay on Coralcola, and then if anyone comes looking, I'll have Chief Omoy conveniently explain that you died in a 'fishing accident'."

Mike grinned at the archaeologist. "Uncle Steve…thank you."

"No, no, it was my fault you got dragged into this mess in the first place." Dr. Jones retorted, waving off the gratitude. "You deserve a happy ending, and all the best in life. I almost wish I could come with you, just to study their culture…but I've got obligations here. So that's your job, nephew." His studious eyes twinkled with mirth in the starlight. "Think you can handle that?"

"I think we'll manage." Mike chortled, and set Rosella down. The little girl yawned and rubbed at her eyes again.

"It's really past her bedtime." Mica sighed. "We should get going."

Mike drew Mica in closer, and something catlike shone through his body language. "She may need to sleep…but I think we've got some catching up to do, princess."

"I'm not the princess any more." Mica reminded him, melting into his embrace.

"I'm the hero, remember?" Mike countered. "You'll always be my princess."

Michael Jones turned back to Dr. Jones. "You sure you can handle things here?"

"Earth can take care of itself." Dr. Jones rumbled, lifting an eyebrow. "Mica and your daughter need you. And Argonia needs you. There's just one thing."

"What's that?"

Dr. Jones pulled an object from his pocket and lobbed it through the air in an underhanded throw. Mike caught it easily and looked it over, blinking in surprise.

"This…This is my old yo-yo." The red and white design was beaten up from all the fighting it had done years before, but it felt solid and true in his grip.

"You might need where you're going." Dr. Jones smiled. "Here, you're just Mike Jones. But in Argonia, you're the hero of their people. Some might even think you're the Starseer reborn. And heroes have weapons."

"Right." Mike scoffed. "I'm going to protect Argonia with a yo-yo."

"At least until you find something else." His Uncle concluded thoughtfully. "You always did."

Rosella slumped against him, and Mike tucked the yo-yo away. He gave Mica one last longing kiss, then pulled back and nodded. "I'm ready, Mica. Take us home."

As Princess Mica's Shilivre began to glow around her with a faint white and green aura, and extended out to them, she gave her love, soon to be her husband, a curious glance. "You know, you didn't argue about the Prophecy and you being the Starseer this time. Why?"

Mike thought about it, looking to his Uncle, up at the Southern Cross, and then finally down to Mica, sweet Mica, now and forever lost in her eyes.

"Simple." He concluded, as only he could. "The Starseer was a hero who never got his happy ending…Not in his own life. The Prophecy said he'd find it in the next one. And as long as I get mine…I figure I might as well be him, because he deserves his too."

Dr. Jones stepped back from them and smiled as the light of Mica's power enveloped them, like Hirocon's had six years ago.

"First star to the left…and straight on 'till morning." He whispered. In a blink, Mica, Michael, and their daughter, Princess Rosella Argos, vanished from Coralcola in a beam that shot off up into the night sky, towards the Southern Cross, and to a land and a home that would be theirs forever.

With the quiet of night surrounding him once more, Dr. Jones adjusted his glasses and let out a long sigh as he strolled back towards his laboratory. "Hell of a night." He murmured. "I lose my research assistant to the girl of his dreams, and I get the honor of explaining to my brother why he'll never see his boy again."

He meant it in jest, though. His footsteps were lighter than they'd been in years, and he began whistling for no reason. For the first time, he understood what Hapo Omoy meant when the Island Chief looked up to the Southern Cross and uttered that unusual phrase.

_The stars are with them._

For the boy who had become a hero, and his princess who had become a queen, the ever watchful skies above fulfilled their ancient promise.

Below, Dr. Jones looked over his shoulder to where they'd disappeared one last time.

"It began with me. It ended with him." Dr. Jones summarized, putting it all into perspective. "And they all lived happily ever after."

They truly did.

**THE END**


End file.
